I Hear You Calling in the Dead of Night
by Sarahbob
Summary: Modern AU. Grantaire cursed his own drunken uselessness; his own stupidity; he cursed his whole being. He carefully took Enjolras' limp hand and started crying. "Please be okay. Please Apollo. Please don't die"
1. Chapter 1

_(Hi there! I've got another idea for a story and I'm going to test it right here with a first chapter. It's my first Modern AU story. Please let me know if you like I and if you think it's worth continuing. For now, enjoy!)_

It was the fourth time this week. The fourth time Grantaire had drank so much, he could barely stand on his own feet anymore, let alone walk home by himself. He was stumbling across the Café, hugging anyone who came in his reach. Enjolras sat at a table in the far corner of the Café, chatting with Combeferre and Joly. He'd had a rough day at university and was not in the mood for any of Grantaire's shenanigans. _  
_  
But of course, as luck would have it, Grantaire stumbled in their direction and threw his arms around the blonde revolutionary, while faking sex sounds in his ear. He was out to irritate Enjolras and it worked like a charm. "Get off me, you drunkard! You're disgusting you know that? Have you no self-control?"

In response, Grantaire took a swig of his bottle and grinned. Enjolras rolled his eyes and pushed the cynic away. "Why do I even ask?", he muttered to himself. Combeferre, who was sitting opposite of Enjolras couldn't suppress a small smile, while Joly stood up from his seat at the table and genuinely returned the hug Grantaire was now trying to give him.

"Seee, Apollo? You could've done what Joly did? 'S not that hard! Come ooon", Grantaire whined in a slurred voice. And he tried again, this time approaching the blonde from behind, nuzzling his head in the crook of Enjolras' neck. Enjolras looked at Combeferre annoyed, but at seeing the encouraging smile the medical student was giving him, he felt himself relax and despite still being very irritated, he patted Grantaire a few times on the head.

Grantaire grinned and pressed a sloppy, very wet kiss against Enjolras neck in return, only to see how far he could go. "Grantaire!", the blonde exclaimed, while jumping from his seat and shoving the drunkard away from him again. "God, you're gross, get the hell away from me!" He fervently wiped his neck and glared at the man in front of him.

"Alright, act like you don' wannit", Grantaire chuckled and he moved on, now focusing his attention on very awkward looking Marius. "Marius, I'm Cosette, come and give me some love!"

Enjolras turned back to Joly and Combeferre. "How can you possibly be laughing at that? It's not funny! It's the fourth time this week", he said indignantly. Combeferre shrugged, smiling at his best friend compassionately.

"You just have to play the game with him Enjolras. He's only out to get you to freak out and you fall for it every time."

"Well then what? Do I have to let him _lick_ me? Come on 'Ferre, how can I possibly play along with something like that." Enjolras watched Combeferre's smile widen and sighed deeply. "Fine, whatever, can we just get back to our conversation?"

"Of course, let's try to drown out all the fun and get back to talking about serious business", Courfeyrac joked, while taking a seat in between Enjolras and Joly. "What are we talking about? I doubt it concerns any pretty ladies?"

Enjolras shot him an angry look. "Your doubts are quite correct. We're discussing the too high level of inequality in universities regarding women and men if you want to know and I personally think it is more important than drinking wine and acting like a complete idiot!" At that he glared at Grantaire who had now pulled a shawl around his head, imitating a damsel in distress and calling out for Marius to save him.

Courfeyrac widened his eyes and whistled. "Wow, yeah, I totally see your point. Because we can actually achieve something by talking about it right at this second." Enjolras eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding, don't worry. But I don't understand though, there are many girls attending university, and their allowed to as well, I don't see your point if I can be honest."

"Yeah, well neither do Combeferre and Joly, but I'm not talking about attendance. I'm talking about professors still thinking men are more intellectual than women and.. and… well, never mind. I have to think about it more", Enjolras huffed. He had it all figured out clearly earlier, but now he didn't seem to get his words out.

"You do that", Courfeyrac said, "Then in the meantime let me tell you about the hundredth love letter Marius has sent to Cosette. Did you know he actually saves them all on his computer? I mean, why does he do that? Is he going to send them to other women as well? Or is he planning to send Cosette the same letters?"

And so Enjolras' serious conversation turned into a comfortable, informal chatter. While he was first annoyed and refused to take part in it, he finally stopped sulking and joined his friend in their speculations.

As the evening came to an end, the Amis broke into a heated debate on who's turn it was to get Grantaire back to his apartment. Combeferre, Joly, Courfeyrac and Marius were excused, because they had already done their duty the previous nights. Bahorel, Bossuet and Jehan had already done it last week, so that left Enjolras and Feuilly.

"I'm not doing it", Feuilly stated, raising his eyebrows at Enjolras and crossing his arms.

"And why not? Why should I have to be the one?", Enjolras said annoyed.

"Because, you have the day off tomorrow and I have to get up at seven. And because I've been on Grantaire-duty far more times than you have. So it's only fair."

Enjolras huffed and looked to his friends for support but they nodded in Feuilly's agreement. The revolutionary rolled his eyes, took a deep breath and then stormed towards Grantaire, who was seated at a table, resting his head atop of it. "R, wake up. I'm bringing you home", he said coolly, poking the drunkard in the back a few times to get him to respond.

"Awh, you're taking me home Apollo? That's so sweet, you never take me home. I feel honored. I love you", he slurred, while standing up and leaning heavily against Enjolras for support.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just work with me here alright. I want to get to sleep as well", the blonde muttered, gently maneuvering the drunkard towards the stairs. He shot one last glare back towards his Amis, before disappearing from their sight. He did hear them burst out into laughter and he made a mental note to curse every one of them for it later.

Walking with a drunken Grantaire was as hard as you imagine it would be. Probably even harder. He kept trying to walk by himself, which only resulted in him falling to the floor and deciding it would be "nice to sleep on the street for once". Enjolras had to reel him back more than a few times to prevent him from getting hit by either a bicyclist or a car. And he got more angry with every step they took.

"For the love of God, Grantaire!", he shouted, when Grantaire once again sank to the floor. "Could you just act normal? What if the police saw us huh? You'd be spending the night in prison again. Get yourself together and work with me here." He grabbed the drunkard by his arm and pulled him to his feet again.

"I'm sorry Apollo, you're right. You're right. But it's just so funny and I'm so tired. If I could just sleep right here on your shoulder?" Grantaire laid down his head on Enjolras' jacket and closed his eyes, softly humming in appreciation.

Enjolras clenched his teeth and counted to ten. "I swear this is the last time I do this", he mumbled silently to himself, even though he had made that promise every single time it was his turn to get Grantaire home. He wondered if the man was this difficult with his other friends as well. When he noticed Grantaire was actually drooling on his shoulder, he roughly shoved the man away from him, groaning in frustration.

Grantaire chuckled and stumbled backwards, not noticing where he went. "Sorry Apollo, it just felt so good I thought it had to taste good as well and I couldn't help myself to try."

Enjolras tried to wipe the saliva of his jacket and looked up furiously at Grantaire. His anger turned into downright fear when he noticed his friend was standing in the middle of the road, completely unaware of the fast approaching car. Before he knew it, he found himself running towards his friend. "Grantaire! Watch out!"

Grantaire was about to turn around to look at Enjolras when he felt the revolutionary push him harshly away. He fell to the floor and watched in horror as he saw his idol's eyes widen in shock and then fly through the air as the car collided with his body. There was no more effective way to sober up a drunken man.

Grantaire sat completely frozen on the floor for a second. The car never stopped, but just kept on driving. Then his eyes fell on the still body lying a little distance away from him. _No, no, no, no, no_.

He scrambled to his feet and stormed towards his blonde friend. "Enjolras! Enjolras, please. Please wake up? Enjolras!" He was shouting, begging and desperately praying for Enjolras to open his eyes. There was blood. So much blood. And Enjolras' leg and arm were lying at an unnatural angle. _Please don't be dead. _He thought as he pressed shaking fingers on Enjolras' neck, searching for a pulse. He let out a relieved sob when he found one.

Grantaire then pulled out his phone with shaking hands and dialed 911. He was hardly able to give them the address. He cursed himself again and again. He cursed his own drunken uselessness, his stupidity, his whole being. When he hang up the phone, he carefully took Enjolras' limp hand and started crying. _Please be okay. Please Apollo. Please don't die. _

He let himself lie down next to his blonde friend, making sure he didn't jostle the revolutionary's body. And while he squeezed Enjolras' hand tightly in his own, he waited for the ambulance to arrive.

_(So, what do you think? Did you like it? Should I continue? Please let me know, I'm really curious about your opinion!)_


	2. Chapter 2

_(Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows and favorites. It really means a lot! Here's a second chapter, hope you like it. Next update might take a bit longer, because I have to focus on two other stories as well. Enjoy!)_

Everything hurt. From his head to toes and to the very core of his bones. Everything hurt. That was the first thing he was aware of. The second was that everything was hazy. _What had happened? Why couldn't he open his eyes? Why was his face wet? Was it raining?_ Somewhere in the distance he could hear panicked shouting. And then crying. _What happened?_

When he focused hard enough, he managed to pick up some of the words. "Please, don't die…Apollo…I'm so sorry." _Grantaire?_ There was only one person who called him Apollo, annoying as it was. _Why is he crying? Why am I hurting?_ "Please open your eyes? Please…Apollo?"

_Oh right! My eyes are closed. Why are they closed? _Enjolras tried his hardest to open them. _Why is this so hard_? He finally managed to open his eyes to mere slits, letting out a broken moan in the process. _Was that me? Why am I sounding like that?_ His vision was blurry, but he could just make out the shape of a person right next to him.

As soon as Grantaire realized Enjolras was awake, he almost broke out into a new round of sobbing, but he held them in and instead moved directly into Enjolras' view. "Apollo? Enjolras? Are you with me? Everything is going to be okay, Apollo, I promise. The ambulance is on its way, you'll be alright. You have to be alright. Please stay awake?"

Enjolras saw Grantaire's mouth move and he heard a voice, but everything was just so confusing. He didn't understand. _An ambulance? Am I hurt? What happened?_ He carefully opened his mouth, ready to ask Grantaire all his questions, but all that came out was a pained and whispered "Taire". He winced at the weakness of his voice, not liking it at all and he was about to try again. But before he could, Grantaire pressed a finger against his mouth.

"Don't speak, Apollo. Please just safe your strength? Please?"

Enjolras frowned. _What?_ He didn't understand and so he once again opened his mouth to speak, but Grantaire interrupted him.

"You've been hit by a car Enjolras. Y-you're hurt and I don't know how hurt, but I've called an ambulance. It should be here any moment. I'm so sorry Apollo."

It was at that moment that everything came back to him. The evening at the Café. Grantaire being drunk as usual. No, not as usual. He was even more drunk this time and it had been Enjolras' turn to bring him home. Flashes of a stumbling Grantaire moved before his eyes. A Grantaire standing in the middle of the road; a car approaching. And then a hard blow.

The pain all of a sudden seemed to increase in tenfold. He became very aware of the broken bones in his body and the stabbing pain every time he breathed in or out. And then he realized Grantaire was holding his hand. Seeing as a sort of invitation, he squeezed it back with all his might, hoping to alleviate some of the pain. He clenched his teeth and shut his eyes again, blocking out the tilting world around him and he hoped he could just fall back into oblivion.

"I'm so sorry. It is all my fault. I'm so sorry"

Grantaire was crying again. Somewhere a voice inside Enjolras' head begged him to speak up; to counter Grantaire's words of self-blame , but he just did not have the strength for it. So instead he settled for a firm holding of his hand, both for himself as for Grantaire, to let him know he was still there.

He knew exactly when the ambulance was arriving. The blearing lights and the piercing siren send sharp daggers into his already pounding head. He once again couldn't suppress a weak moan and tried to block out the pervasive sound. And then suddenly the reassuring weight of Grantaire's hand in his own was gone. He needed that contact. _Grantaire?_ Reluctantly he cracked open his eyes again and was met with a strange face, no doubt one of the paramedics. In the distance he heard Grantaire call him, reassure him. "Don't fight them Apollo, I'll be right back. I promise, just let them help you."

Grantaire wasn't happy when the paramedics forced him to let go of Enjolras. And he nearly fought his way back when he heard his friends' soft protest as soon as their hands were pulled apart. But he knew he had to give them their space to work, it was for Enjolras' own good. _Please be okay Apollo. Please don't die. Please don't die. _The reality of the situation suddenly sank in when he noticed the concerned looks of the paramedics and their careful movements around Enjolras' broken body. _This all your fault, you drunken, stupid fool. If it wasn't for your drunken, irresponsible behavior, this would've never happened. You should have been hit, you only deserve it. Why did you have to push me away Apollo? Please be okay? Please don't die._

"Monsieur, do you want to ride with us in the ambulance?"

The voice shook him out of his ponderings. He looked at the woman in confusing and she repeated the question. He nodded and climbed after her in the ambulance, taking seat next to his blonde friend and he immediately took hold of his hand again. Enjolras' eyes were still closed and he was firmly secured to the stretcher, but his hand closed around Grantaire's at once. The paramedic placed a mask over Enjolras' face with an oxygen pump to help him breathe easier. And like that, they speeded towards the hospital. The sirens were blearing, but Grantaire doubted they could match the loud beating of his heart.

As soon as they arrived at the hospital, Grantaire found himself once again been roughly pulled away from Enjolras. He watched as his blonde friend was wheeled through the emergency doors and wanted to follow, but he was held back by security.

"Please monsieur, I have to go with him. I need to be with him. Please let me through!"

The man smiled sympathetically at him but shook his head. He mumbled something that only medical staff was allowed and then he silently pointed him towards the waiting area. Grantaire shot him one pleading look, but then did as he was told. It was no use making a scene.

When he was seated in a plastic chair, he realized his own head was pounding irremissibly and he felt sick to his stomach. Now the adrenaline had ebbed away, the hangover was making itself present. A mocking, unforgivable reminder of how this was all his fault. He let his head fall in his hands and let the tears once again flow freely.

"Monsieur?"

A soft voice. A kind voice. He looked up and saw a young nurse standing in front of him, holding a stack of papers. He looked at her quizzically.

"You came in here with monsieur Enjolras am I correct? I need you to fill out these forms. They're mostly about his medical history, allergies and stuff like that." She handed him the papers. He shook his head in response. He didn't know anything about that. Those were things Combeferre or Courfeyrac knew. Or probably all of the other Amis, but not him. He'd never been interested in anything like that.

The nurse seemed to understand and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Is there someone I should call? Or is there someone who'd you liked to call?"

Grantaire sniffed and blinked away his tears. He really did not want to be the one to break this horrible news to any of his friends, especially not because it was all his fault. But he couldn't do this alone and Enjolras needed his surrogate brother. So he nodded and was about to follow her towards a hospital phone, but then realized he had his own phone still in his pocket. He pulled it out with trembling hands and dialed Combeferre's number. _Please pick up_. _Please pick up. _

It was nearly 3 AM and Combeferre would undoubtedly be sound asleep by now. However, Grantaire knew the man never shut down his phone during the nights. He was one of those people who always wanted to be reachable.

The phone rang once, twice and a third time. Then he was greeted with a sleepy and slightly cranky voice. "Grantaire? Why on earth are you calling me at this hour? Shouldn't you be asleep?"

_So he hasn't realized Enjolras isn't home yet._ Grantaire took a shaky breath, swallowed once and then he spoke with a trembling voice.

"_'Ferre... You uh…It's..It's Enjolras…You need to come to the hospital…I…He…We were…I was drunk and there was a car and Enjolras, he…he…you need to come 'Ferre, please come right now?"_

There was a deadly silence on the other side of the line for a few seconds. Then something that seemed dangerously close to a sob. "I'll be there in ten." And the line went dead.

TBC.

_(Yay, another chapter done! Did you like it? Please let me know what you think! Till next time!)_


	3. Chapter 3

_(Hi guys! Thank you all so much for the reviews. They mean a lot! And they make me update faster, so there you go. A win win situation. Hope you like this next chapter. Enjoy!)_

Combeferre had left the Café pretty soon after Enjolras had dragged Grantaire's outside, which was around 00.30 AM. He was tired and had to get up fairly early the next day. As he walked the short distance home, his thoughts wandered back to his blonde friend and a smile spread across his face.

He knew how much Enjolras hated to be the one to get Grantaire home safely, because it always ended up with him worrying about his friend so much that he usually just spent the night to make sure R was okay, before returning home in the morning. He wondered if tonight would be any different.

Enjolras could yell all he wanted, everyone knew Grantaire meant as much to him as any of the other Amis. Although he fought with him far more often than he did with any of the others in a whole year.

Smiling, Combeferre pulled out his phone and selected Enjolras' number. _"Good luck mon Ami. Get some tonight. Don't sneak out in the morning though, that's rude."_ He hit send and chuckled to himself. It was a joke of course, one that would no doubt annoy an already frustrated Enjolras.

It took only a few minutes before his phone buzzed in his pocket. "_Shut up . I swear this is the last time I'm doing this. I'll be home tonight, don't wait up though, will take a while."_ Combeferre's smile widened as he read the message. Yeah right, he thought, and he put the phone back in his pocket to unlock his front door.

the medical student dropped the keys on the table and went straight to his room. He flopped down on the bed and took off his shoes. He didn't bother undressing and just let himself fall back on the pillows and closed his eyes. He was asleep within minutes.

* * *

Combeferre was in the middle of a strange dream in which Grantaire had miraculously sobered up and decided that he, just as Jehan, loved to put flowers in his hair. And instead of pissing Enjolras off with his drinking habits and his sexual 'intimidation' – as Enjolras liked to call it – he was now throwing flowers around the blonde and braiding daisies in his hair when he wasn't looking. It didn't piss the revolutionary off any less then the drinking had.

Just when Combeferre decided it was actually a quite funny and pleasant dream, he was blinking awake to an annoying buzzing sound. _Where the hell is my phone? And what time is it? _He glanced at the clock; 3 AM.

Combeferre slowly sat up straight, trying to locate his phone. He then remembered he had put it back in the pocket of his jacket a few hours ago and he had been so tired when he got home, he had totally forgotten getting it out.

Sleepily he pulled himself to his feet and stumbled towards his desk on which the jacket was draped. _Better be freaking worth it_, he thought sourly. Combeferre hated to be woken up in the middle of his sleep. He was never able to fall back into it easily afterwards.

He retrieved the phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen. _Grantaire?_ Combeferre frowned and groaned internally. _Better not be some stupid joke_. He sighed and answered; not in the slightest prepared for the news Grantaire was about to break to him.

"Grantaire? Why on earth are you calling me at this hour? Shouldn't you be asleep?" Combeferre asked, realizing his voice was sounding a little bit more cranky than he intended it to. He was about to lighten the mood by throwing in a little joke when Grantaire started speaking.

"Ferre? You uh...It's..It's Enjolras...You need to come to the hospital...I...He...We were...I was drunk and there was a car and Enjolras, he...he...you need to come 'Ferre, please come right now?"

Grantaire's voice broke at those last words, obviously trying to suppress a sob.

It took some time for the words to sank in. Combeferre was staring in the distance. He tried to comprehend what Grantaire was saying, but it was just too horrible. _Hospital? Car accident? Enjolras?_ He felt his world spinning and he knew all the blood had drained from his face. _Not Enjolras_.

He opened his mouth once and then another time, but no sound seemed to come out. He was blinking fast and his heart skipped a beat once his brain finally seemed to fully comprehend what Grantaire was telling him. They hit him hard, and he silently sank down on the bed, gasping for air.

Just when Grantaire was about to ask if he was still there, Combeferre found his voice again. "I'll be there in ten", he whispered and then he immediately hung up. He feared that if he wouldn't, Grantaire would only continue giving him bad news, and he couldn't handle that through the phone.

A sort of desperate choked up sob made its way out of Combeferre's throat. He was momentarily frozen on the bed, before realizing he actually had to move to get to the hospital.

He then sprang up, put on his shoes and jacket and grabbed a bag. He filled it with some of Enjolras' stuff, and then all but flew down the stairs and ran towards his car. In the meantime he dialed Courfeyrac's number. _Come on, come on, pick up the damn phone Courf_. But there was no response.

Cursing inwardly, Combeferre got in the front seat and wheeled out of his parking space. During his way to the hospital he tried to call Courfeyrac again and then Jehan and Joly, but no one picked up.

"Damnit!", he shouted loudly as he threw his phone on the dashboard. He was certain his friends were still at the Musain, probably too drunk or occupied to pay attention to their phones. But they had to know about Enjolras. If Grantaire's panicked voice was anything to go by, things were bad, very bad.

Combeferre made it to the hospital in 7 minutes, breaking every speeding limit in the process. As he got out of the car, he settled for a short, factual text message to both Courfeyrac and Joly, urging them to contact either him or Grantaire as soon as possible or get straight to the hospital.

When he reached the waiting room, he strode towards the reception, anxious to hear any news about his best friend. He was about to interrupt the nurse on the phone when he heard a small voice behind him.

"'Ferre? God, I'm so glad you're here."

Combeferre turned around and saw Grantaire standing there. He looked awful. His eyes were red and puffy, his face was pale and sweaty and his trembling hands were holding a small stack of hospital folders.

Combeferre grabbed Grantaire by the shoulders. "What the hell happened 'Taire? Is he okay? Have you heard anything?"

Grantaire pressed his lips together and shook his head dejectedly. No one had come to brief him on Enjolras' condition yet. "No, I haven't heard anything yet. I...They asked me to fill these in, but I don't...I don't know this..."

Combeferre took in the broken drunkard and tried to relax a little for his sake. He pushed the other man towards some chairs and took the forms from him, filling them out as if they were questions concerning himself.

His heart was beating loud and he had a hard time swallowing as his throat felt constricted, but Combeferre focused on the task at hand and handed the forms to the reception nurse as soon as they were complete.

Although his fear and concern for his blonde friend were basically blocking out every other emotion, he did feel a small pang of frustration concerning Grantaire. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know why Enjolras had been hit by a car. He feared it had something to do with Grantaire's drunkenness and didn't know if he was capable of keeping his cool if that was indeed the case.

He was on the verge of breaking the dreaded question when a doctor appeared in the waiting room. Even before he spoke, Combeferre knew he was the one in charge of Enjolras. And judging by the look on his face, he wasn't about to deliver good news.

"Family of Julien Enjolras?"

TBC

_(Ah, a cliffy here. Only a little one, don't worry. I really, really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Please let me know? Till next time! I'll try to update as soon as possible)_


	4. Chapter 4

_(Hi guys! I decided not to keep you waiting too long for another story after my little cliffy, because you are all so kind and amazing to review, follow and favorite this story. I'm really flattered and I can't see enough how much it means to me. Hope you like this chapter, enjoy!)_

"Family of Julien Enjolras?"

Both Combeferre and Grantaire made their way over to the doctor as fast as they could. Grantaire's knees were buckling with every step he took, but he managed to keep himself upright. He was so scared. _If he's dead, it's my fault. It'll be all my fault. Please don't be dead Apollo, please._

The doctor eyed both boys warily. "You are his relatives?" he asked friendly. Combeferre shook his head and shortly explained the situation. "His mother died a few years ago and he doesn't speak to his father. We're his friends, I'm his roommate and he has written me down as his emergency contact. My name is Combeferre." The words came out jumbled and far too quickly, but he didn't care. Now was not the time for chitchatting, he needed to know about his friend.

The doctor looked down at his forms and nodded when he indeed saw a notification of a Combeferre as Enjolras' emergency contact. "Very well, my name is doctor Richieu, I've been in charge of your friend for the past hour."

He shook hands with both boys and asked them to follow him to a place more private. Grantaire looked up anxiously to Combeferre, his eyes wide with fear and worry. The medical student nodded towards the doctor and placed a gentle hand on Grantaire's shoulder, silently forcing him to stay calm and follow them.

As soon as they arrived at the doctor's office, Grantaire couldn't keep quiet any longer. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him. He had to know if his Apollo was okay; if he was alive. When the door closed behind them, the doctor opened his mouth to speak, but was roughly cut off by Grantaire.

"Enough with the freaking silent treatment! How is he? Is he even alive? God, please tell me he's alive, I can't..."

"Grantaire", Combeferre interrupted the drunkards ranting. He understood the man was worried, terrified even. Of course he knew, he felt the same way, but it was no use panicking without knowledge of what the doctor was going to tell them.

The one call of his name silenced Grantaire and he looked to the ground, tears once again spilling and making their way down his cheeks.

Doctor Richieu smiled compassionately at the boys in front of him. During his many years at the hospital he had learned to read people, and these two men in front of him undoubtedly cared a great deal about his patient. "He is alive", he said gently, but he held up his hand when the black curled boy opened his mouth again.

"I'm afraid I don't have much time to give you a detailed version of his condition, because at this moment we're prepping him for surgery and I have to be there as soon as an OR is available, which should be within the next twenty minutes. But if it is possible I always want to make time to inform the patient's relatives or in this case friends of what is going on and what we're about to do. I've heard stories where people had to wait hours for news on their loved ones, and so long as it is in my power, I try to avoid that, which is why I'm speaking to you both right now."

Combeferre's heart had jumped upwards a couple inches and was now beating fast in his throat. _Surgery?_ This couldn't be happening. Not to his best friend. Not to his blonde pupil who was more like a little brother to him than a friend. He _had_ to be okay. There just was no other option.

"S-Surgery?", he stuttered worriedly. He felt the fear and shock radiating off Grantaire, who was now sitting next to him, body gone completely rigid.

Doctor Richieu nodded and explained the situation to them. "I'm afraid your friend was brought in tonight in a very bad state. I'm not going to sugar coat or downplay it, because it would not be fair to give either of you false hope. I was not sure he was going to pull through our first round of examinations, but he proves to be a fighter and at least for now, he is stable. He's suffering from a head injury, one we're not completely sure how bad it is until after the surgery. He has several fractures in his kneecap, his forearm and he broke two ribs of which one has severely damaged his left lung, which resulted in him having trouble breathing. But what we're most worried about at this point and the reason why he's going into immediate surgery is the fact that he is suffering from a ruptured stomach and bleeding internally. We're not sure yet if it has caused damage to other organs as well, but we'll be checking that during the surgery as well."

Tears were now silently making their way down Combeferre's face. The list of injuries seemed to go on and on and being a medical student, Combeferre was truly amazed Enjolras was still alive. Grantaire looked as if he was about to pass out. All colour he had left in his face after the accident had now been drained as well, leaving him with a deadly pallor. Both boys were at a total loss for words, trying to comprehend what the doctor in front of them was saying.

"His body has suffered a great deal and it can't take much more, but unfortunately we can't delay this surgery. Like I said, your friend is certainly strong and he won't give up easily, but I need you both to prepare yourselves and keep in mind that he might not make it through. I'll promise you though that we're doing everything we can" Doctor Richieu eyed both boys carefully, hoping they really heard what he was saying. It was Grantaire who spoke up first.

"Damn right he's strong. He'll make it, he has to. There's too much wrong in this godforsaken world – he always tells me that repeatedly – and it needs fixing and he's the one who has to do it, because no one else can. He'll be okay. He has to be okay. He will be okay, right 'Ferre?"

Combeferre looked at Grantaire, his expression hard to fathom. Instead of answering Grantaire, he settled for a gentle squeeze of his hand and then turned to the doctor. "Is he awake? Can we see him?"

"He's drifting in and out of sleep. We've had to sedate him during our examination and he has been doped up with pain killers, but he's vaguely aware of what is going on. As for your second question, I can allow only one of you to see him for a few minutes. Just until we have to take him to surgery", Richieu answered, looking from Grantaire to Combeferre and back. "Which one will it be?"

Combeferre knew Enjolras meant a great deal to Grantaire, more than anything, but this really was no discussion point. And Grantaire knew this as well. There was no question on who was going to be the one to visit their blonde friend. Grantaire looked at the medical student and nodded sadly, saying "Combeferre will go."

"Very well, monsieur Combeferre, if you'll follow me. Monsieur Grantaire, you can wait in the waiting room for your friend to return. I'll report on your Julien's situation as soon as the surgery is over."

Before Combeferre could follow the doctor, Grantaire grabbed him by the arm. "Please, 'Ferre, tell him he has to keep fighting? Tell him that I'm sorry and that I'll do everything for him if he'll just get better. Please, tell him? That I'm really, truly sorry? Please?"

Combeferre frowned. He really needed to know what the hell had happened that made Grantaire feel so guilty. Now was not the time however, and so he pressed the cynics hand and nodded curtly.

* * *

"You'll have a few minutes monsieur", doctor Richieu told Combeferre as he opened the door to a room. Combeferre agreed silently and went inside. If it was possible for a heart to break into a thousand pieces, Combeferre's heart was doing so the second his eyes caught sight of his blonde roommate.

Enjolras was almost as pale as the white sheets of the hospital bed, except for the multiple bruises and cuts covering his arms and face. He was hooked up to a bunch of machines monitoring his heart rate, his oxygen level, his blood pressure and what not. His head was bandaged and his arm was in a sling, not yet plastered. The rest of the Enjolras' body was covered with the blanket and Combeferre was glad for that.

Combeferre silently grabbed a chair and sat as close to Enjolras as possible. When he reached out to take hold of the blonde's hand, tired eyes blinked up at him. Though high on painkillers, his eyes still showed pain and discomfort. Combeferre suddenly felt an urge to pull his friend in a tight hug and shield him away from the world. Instead, he settled for a soft "Hey".

Enjolras blinked slowly, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Hey", he mumbled weakly. And then Combeferre didn't know any words to say. There was so much he wanted to tell his friend, to ask him, but somehow, his brain couldn't form any sentences. Enjolras noticed and his smile grew a little. "I don't think I'm doing too good", he whispered, his words a bit slurred.

Combeferre squeezed Enjolras' hand harder in response and felt his eyes tear up again. He shook his head dejectedly and pressed a light kiss on the hand he was holding. "You're going into surgery in a few minutes. They allowed me to sit with you for a little bit."

Enjolras nodded and swallowed, closing his eyes for a second. Combeferre noticed how his blonde friend winced with every movement. No matter how small. "How's 'Taire?"

"He's not doing very well. I'm not sure what happened tonight, he hasn't told me yet and I have not yet asked, but he keeps saying it is all his fault and he wanted me to tell you that he was sorry and that you had to keep fighting and I just...I need you to keep fighting too Julien, please?", Combeferre said quietly.

Enjolras weakly squeezed Combeferre's hand in response. "S not his fault, it's not, I don't blame him". His voice was now so low, the medical student had to strain his ears to hear.

He was about to say something when the door opened and two nurses came in. "We're ready to take your friend into surgery, monsieur. We're sorry, but you'll need to leave the room. The doctor will inform you on his condition as soon as possible."

Combeferre's heart started beating faster again. _No. I don't want to leave yet_. There was still so much more to say, things he wanted Enjolras to know. What if it was the last time he was able to? Enjolras, ever observant, weakly tugged at Combeferre's hand, trying to get his attention and reassure him at the same time. "I'll see you later 'Ferre", he whispered tiredly.

The medical student in return stroked Enjolras' hair, mindful of his injury and pressed a kiss on his head. Tears were now once again flowing freely from his eyes, even though he had wanted to stay strong for his friend. "Don't you dare give up, you hear me? Don't you dare", he muttered, pressing their foreheads together lightly. "I love you, my friend."

Enjolras smiled again. "I know", he whispered and his heart ached painfully when Combeferre let go of his hand and walked to the door. They shared one final look, before the nurses closed the door and started their preparations for the surgery.

_I love you too_, he thought before he felt himself sink into a very welcoming sleep.

TBC.

_(That was it! Hope you liked this chapter. Next update will be somewhere this week, not yet sure when, but I'll try to update soon. Please let me know what you think, reviews are always highly appreciated. Till next time!)_


	5. Chapter 5

_(Hi guys! Thank you all so much for your kind reviews and responses. They mean so much to me and they encourage me to keep writing. So here's another chapter, hope you like it!)_

Combeferre walked the short distance back to the waiting room. Seeing Enjolras lying in that hospital bed all pale and hurt had been hard for the medical student. His blonde friend was supposed to be parading around, shoulders strong and eyes full of passion. It hurt Combeferre to see his friend like this and with every smile Enjolras gave him, doctor Richieu's words were echoing louder in his head. _You have to prepare yourself. He might not make it through._

Combeferre shook his head sadly. _He better well make it through. He doesn't get another option_, he thought. When he arrived at the waiting room, he spotted Grantaire right away, hunched in chair in the corner. He had buried his head in his hands and was slowly rocking back and forth. Combeferre had never seen the other man this upset before and he wanted to feel sorry for him, he wanted to comfort him, but something held him back.

And that something was a nagging feeling that told him Enjolras was lying here because of Grantaire's drunken stupidity. _It's not his fault, I don't blame him. _Enjolras words almost withheld him from confronting the black-haired boy. Almost, but not quite. He had to know. While he walked over to Grantaire, he checked his phone for missed messages. He had none. _Damnit Courfeyrac._

"Grantaire", he spoke softly when he reached his friend. Grantaire jumped visibly. He had obviously been deep in thought and was not aware of the medical student approaching him. When he met Combeferre's eyes he stood up immediately, showering him with questions about Enjolras. "How is he doing? Is he okay? Did you tell him I was sorry? Was he awake? Could he talk to you? Was he in any pain?"

Combeferre held up a hand, successfully silencing Grantaire. "He is very weak and in a lot of pain despite the high amount of pain killers they've pumped into his system. I've talked to him a little and yes I told him you were sorry." Combeferre paused, watching Grantaire carefully and then continued. "He asked me how you were and he told me that he didn't blame you. That it wasn't your fault."

Grantaire shook his head furiously. "But it is! It is my fault. God, and I am so sorry."

Combeferre sighed and then dared to ask the heavy question he had tried to avoid ever since Grantaire called him earlier. "Yes, you keep saying that. Care to explain to me what exactly happened?"

Grantaire gazed to the ground, his shoulders slumped. He knew Combeferre would be angry and he also knew he had every right to be. It was no more than fair to tell Enjolras' best friend the truth. "Well, I was really drunk", he started.

Combeferre wanted to respond, but then thought he'd better let Grantaire tell his story without interruptions. So he settled for a dismissive snort. Grantaire looked up guiltily at that and nodded dejectedly before continuing his story.

"I know I was being extremely irritating while he walked me home. And I have to admit, it wasn't all because of the alcohol, most of it was, but I guess I also just really enjoyed annoying him. And he…he kept keeping his cool for most of the time…making sure I didn't wander off and things like that. And then I…I d-drooled on his jacket partly on accident and it really pissed him off, so he pushed me away. And at that point I thought it was so funny…I didn't listen to him and I walked off on my own and I wasn't aware of..of the car approaching until I heard him shout. And I first thought he was just shouting my name, because he was angry, but then when I turned…wh-when I turned I saw him running towards me and he shoved me away. A-and..and only then I saw the car and Apollo he couldn't…he…He saved my life and he has to make it 'Ferre, he has to, because if he doesn't than it'll mean I've killed him. And I'm so sorry, I really am and I'll never drink again, not that much, I swear, please 'Ferry, you've got to believe me." Grantaire ended his ranting turning into a sobbing mess clinging to Combeferre's shoulder.

Combeferre had kept silent during the whole story. He had kept his calm, but inside he was getting more and more angry. Of course it was all a stupid accident and he had no doubt Grantaire would do anything to change what had happened, but the point was that none of it would've happened if Grantaire hadn't been his _stupid drunken self_.

The medical student took a deep breath and moved his shoulder, effectively shrugging Grantaire off. He stood and turned his back to his friend. He pinched the bridge of his nose and thought about what he was going to say. _It's not his fault, I don't blame him_. Enjolras words did their best to make themselves known, but doctor Richieu's words were stronger. _He might not make it through._ Those words, mixed with the image of his friend, pale and hurt in the hospital only fueled Combeferre's anger.

When he turned around he looked at Grantaire coolly. "You've really outdone yourself this time 'Taire. You better pray he's going to be okay." His voice was eerily calm, but infused with anger and disappointment. Grantaire felt his heart break even further than it already had. He nodded sadly and averted his eyes, whispering another "I'm sorry."

Combeferre shook his head and walked away from the drunkard. He couldn't deal with it now. He pulled out his phone and once again tried Courfeyrac's number. When he reached his voicemail again, he left a message Bahorel would be proud of. _Stupid boys, why don't they pick up their freaking phones!_

He then got an idea. He was sure his friends were still at the Café, drinking and partying. It was a Friday after all and it was only 4 AM. _I've only been here for 50 minutes?_ Combeferre thought surprised. He dialed Eponine's number. She was a bartender at Musain and Friday nights were here shifts. He prayed she would pick up.

"Combeferre?" a surprised voice on the other side and Combeferre sighed in relief. "Why are you calling my phone on Friday night? You know I'm not supposed to answer these right?"

"Eponine, are Courfeyrac and the others still there? Please tell me they're there?" Combeferre whispered.

"Yes, they're here, except for you, Enjolras, Grantaire, Bossuet and Feuilly…most of them are drunk out of their minds. Why? Is something wrong? Do I need to give the phone to them?"

Combeferre felt a tear travel down his face. "No", he said softly again, "No, just tell them to check their freaking phones and get to the hospital as soon as they can…It's about Enjolras. I just can't speak to them now, I'm afraid I'll lose it." And with that he hung up the phone. He was worried and angry. _Why do I have to be the only sober one?_ He slid down in a chair a few ones away from Grantaire. All they could do now was wait and pray.

Eponine was momentarily frozen to the spot. _Get them to the hospital as soon as they can. It's about Enjolras_. Her heart was beating loud in her chest and she glanced to the group of friends laughing and drinking together. They were celebrating the start of the weekend and she was about to shatter their world.

Silently she walked towards them, the phone still in her hands. It took them a while to notice her and when they did they were all over her. "Eponine! Foxy lady, come to join us? We'll buy you a drink. We'll even get it ourselves if you let us behind your bar!" Courfeyrac exclaimed happily, while swinging an arm around her, mostly to steady himself.

Eponin smiled tightly and shook her head. She took a deep breath and then started talking. "I just got off the phone with Combeferre."

"He's calling you at this hour? Sneaky bastard he is. I always knew he liked you!" Joly piped up heartily, causing the others to join in.

"Can you all just shut up for a minute?" Eponine said silently, voice shaking with anger and worry. The Amis raised their eyebrows in surprise but they did what she told them. "Like I said, Combeferre called me a minute ago. He asked me if you were still here. Apparently he has been trying to reach all of you for an hour now, but none of you have picked up or responded to his messages. He wanted me to tell you to check your phones and then get to the hospital as soon as you could. It's something about Enjolras."

The Café fell deadly silent. The Amis exchanged worried glances and all at once started to reach for their phones. All of them had at least two missed calls, a voicemail and a text message. Courfeyrac stared at his phone in horror. He had twelve missed calls and he didn't dare to listen to his voicemails. He nervously opened one of the text messages he got from Combeferre and his heart dropped. "A car accident?", he whispered horrified.

Joly, who was listening to one of his voicemails, turned a deadly shade. "He's in surgery. Combeferre said it doesn't look good and we should've been there already. Only he and Grantaire are there now."

Jehan broke into silent tears, reaching for Courfeyracs hand and holding tight. All of them were sober at once. They looked at each other in shock, trying to let the news sink in. Then Eponine spoke up with a soft voice. "I'll call you a taxi."

TBC.

_(Phew! This was a harder chapter for me to write! I hope you're not disappointed. Please let me know what you think and I'll try to update as soon as possible!)_


	6. Chapter 6

_(Hi everyone! Thanks for your lovely reviews. I appreciate them so much, I really do! Thank you for sticking with me and my story :) here's another chapter which I hope you like. Enjoy!)_

It took the Amis fifteen minutes to reach the hospital. Fifteen minutes of silence, anxiety and guilt. The five of them crammed close together to fit in one taxi, all lost in their own thought. Courfeyrac bore it worse than the others. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Enjolras getting hit by a car, while he was having fun and drinking booze. He had been having a fun night, while Combeferre and Grantaire were already there in the hospital, sick with worry and he couldn't even pick up the damn phone.

"Don't be so hard on yourself Courf", Bahorel suddenly said softly, apparently noticing the self blame going on in his friends' head. "No one could've known something like this would happen and neither of us have answered our phones, not just you." He offered him a small smile and then turned back to looking out of the window.

Courfeyrac returned the smile but it wasn't heartfelt. He wondered how something like this could've happened. Enjolras was always cautious; the sort of guy who looked both ways for himself and also for anyone who was with him before crossing the street. If Grantaire was there with Combeferre in the hospital now, as Joly had said, it must have happened while Enjolras was walking the drunkard home. Courfeyrac feared the look on Grantaire's face. The guy was already anxious when his Apollo had a simple headache.

Between waiting for the taxi and arriving at the hospital, several of the Amis had tried to call Combeferre back, but the medical student hadn't answered his phone once. He had sent one text to Marius which simply said: _Get here. I'll tell everything then._ So when the taxi driver finally pulled in to the hospital, all five Amis made their way inside as fast as possible.

* * *

Grantaire couldn't remember ever feeling this miserable. He glanced sideways at Combeferre, who had finally reduced to sitting as well instead of pacing the room. The medical student hadn't looked at him once since Grantaire had told him what happened earlier that night. _You've really outdone yourself. You better pray he is okay_. Combeferre's words had sliced through his heart like a knife. If Enjolras didn't make it – which of course was not an option – Grantaire feared he would not only lose one friend, but all of them. Not that it really mattered to him however. Because if Enjolras didn't make it, there was no life for Grantaire to live any way.

He angrily wiped the tears sliding down his face away. _Stop crying you wine cask. It's all your fault, you don't deserve to cry!_ When he looked at Combeferre again, he could clearly see how scared the other man was. The constant twitching of his foot; the biting of his nails; the hand that continuously pulled through his hair; they were all signs of how bad Combeferre was handling this; how nervous he was.

Grantaire wished he could give his friend support. He wished they could help each other through this painful time of waiting for news on their blonde friend. But Combeferre didn't want him near, and Grantaire couldn't blame him for that.

He pressed shaking hands against his temples and fought the urge to throw up. Normally, he would sleep or more likely drink away a hangover, but not now. He had sworn to himself he wouldn't touch a single drop of alcohol until he knew Enjolras was going to be okay. And even then, he had decided to cut back drastically. Never again would he make a mistake like this again.

But he had also sworn that if Enjolras didn't make it, he would drown himself in his bottles.

* * *

Combeferre sighed deeply when he sent the text to Marius and put away his phone. _At least they are on their way_. He knew he shouldn't be mad at them, how could they have known. They were just having fun on a Friday night; there was nothing wrong with that. But Combeferre was just so worried and shocked that he needed them to be here as soon as possible. So if he had come over a little cross to some of them, so be it.

The medical student subtly glanced sideways to Grantaire. He looked awful, far worse than Combeferre had ever seen him in any drunken or sober state. Had he been too harsh on him? _It's not his fault,_ _I don't blame him_. But still. It partly had been his fault right? Maybe not intentionally – of course not intentionally – but it had still all come down to Grantaire's drunken behavior. Combeferre shook his head. He would talk to Grantaire about it, later. Not now though.

Combeferre was pulled out of his thoughts when a group of five young men were bursting through the doors. All wore the same worried and frightened expression on their face as they anxiously sought him and Grantaire out in the waiting room. Courfeyrac, Joly, Jehan, Marius and Bahorel. Combeferre was so relieved to see them, all anger and frustration towards them ebbed away almost instantly.

They walked towards him, while casting confused looks to Grantaire, who hadn't even looked up at their entrance, and started to shower him with questions about Enjolras. Combeferre told them what doctor Richieu had told him and Grantaire; he told them that he had seen Enjolras for a few minutes; that he had talked to him a little and lastly he told them why he and Grantaire were sitting apart.

The Amis were silent for a moment, working through what Combeferre had said. Joly was the first one to speak up. "Ferre…you know it was an accident right? I mean, yes he was drunk, but…" Combeferre cut his friend off with one angry glare. "I don't want to hear anything about Grantaire right now. Go to him if you want to, leave me out of it. I've told him what I thought and I don't want to be bothered with it or him until I know more about Enjolras."

Joly swallowed the rest of his words and cast a nervous glance to Courfeyrac, who only shook his head silently. They all knew how protective Combeferre was when it came down to the blonde revolutionary. Combeferre was the one who was ever calm and gentle; ever friendly. But he could turn dangerously cold and intimidating when someone hurt his younger roommate.

Joly mumbled something about checking on Grantaire and moved to the other side of the room together with Jehan. Bahorel and Marius were checking to see if they could find out any more news on Enjolras. Combeferre was left with Courfeyrac, who quietly took a seat next to him and placed an arm around his shoulders. He felt the tension leave his friend a little and pulled him even closer, so that Combeferre's head was resting on Courfeyracs shoulder.

"I can't lose him Courf", Combeferre mumbled brokenly, "I can't."

Courfeyrac felt tears prickle his eyes, but he blinked them away. "You won't 'Ferre. We won't. Enjolras is a fighter; he'll pull through, wait and see." He laughed slightly and added: "There's only one place Enj will allow himself to die and that is standing on top of some sort of barricade fighting for freedom with his friends next to him." His smile widened a little when he heard Combeferre snort.

Time passed slowly while they sat like that. Courfeyrac holding Combeferre; Jehan and Joly huddled around Grantaire and Bahorel and Marius somewhere in the middle. Courfeyrac didn't blame Grantaire, and he promised he would make the cynic know that, but right now he felt Combeferre needed him more, so he stayed in his seat and tried to make eye contact with Grantaire, but the latter was just staring into space, hardly even acknowledging his friends were there.

* * *

It took doctor Richieu more than three hours to return to the waiting room. He spotted both boys he talked to earlier along with some others around the same age. When his eyes met Combeferre's, he saw the boy draw in a shaky breath and stand up. Grantaire followed suit, along with the other boys, who only then figured out Richieu was Enjolras' doctor.

"I see the group has expanded", he said kindly. He got no answer. All were only focused on one thing; news about their friend. Richieu sighed deeply and motioned for them to follow. "Let's talk in the hallway. It will be quieter there and I can't take you all inside my office."

When they were a little farther removed from the noisy waiting room, Richieu turned around to face them. He focused his attention mostly on Combeferre, because he knew he would probably be the one listening closest and understanding the most. After introducing himself shortly to the boys he had not yet seen, he started telling them about the surgery and Enjolras' condition.

"First of all, your friend has made it through surgery", he said, not in the least surprised when the group of boys let out a deep breath they had seemingly been holding, "I have to be honest with you though, it has been touch and go the whole time. He crashed twice during the operation, but we were fortunately able to resuscitate him in time before any more damage was done. We've fixed the rupture in his stomach and we've stopped the bleeding. There wasn't any serious damage to his other organs, but his left longue did give your friend some difficulty during surgery, which resulted in him crashing. We've had to put him on a ventilator for now, but we hope to go back to a simple oxygen mask as soon as possible. He's in recovery now, but he'll soon be put in his own room. I'll allow two of you in with him for now. A nurse will come and get you later."

Richieu looked at the boys cautiously before adding that Enjolras' condition was still critical and that they were doing everything they could, but it was now mainly in their friends' hands; in his strength and willingness to keep fighting. He assured them to call him should they have any questions and he would frequently check up on his patient the rest of the morning. Then he was gone.

Combeferre didn't even know he bad he was shaking until Courfeyrac supported him back to the waiting room and pushed him into a chair. No one could really decide if the news they had received was good or bad. Yes, Enjolras was still alive and had made it through surgery, but apparently he was only hanging by a thread.

TBC.

_(Yay, another chapter done! I promise we'll see more of poor, hurt Enjolras in the next chapter. But I felt I couldn't just rush through this part. I really hope you've enjoyed it, please let me know what you think :) Till next time!)_


	7. Chapter 7

_(Hi guys! I want to thank all of you who have decided to follow, favorite or review this story. It means so much to me and they encourage me to keep writing (and to update faster!) So thanks! Hope you like this chapter, enjoy!)_

_He crashed twice._

Those three words kept repeating themselves in Combeferre's head over and over again. He had had the hardest time to pay attention to anything else doctor Richieu was saying. _Crashed twice_. This couldn't be happening. Not to Enjolras. Combeferre only noticed how bad he was shaking when Courfeyrac grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him in a chair once they were back in the waiting area. "Calm down 'Ferre, he made it through surgery, try to focus on that for now".

The other Amis had followed silently, all working through the news the doctor had given them in their own way. Grantaire first wanted to stay out in the hallway. He was in too much of a shock to move his feet. And after hearing what the doctor had said, he was afraid to face Combeferre again. _It's all my fault. He can't even breath on his own because of me_. But Bahorel and Jehan forced him to move with them to the waiting room. "We'll get you a coffee 'Taire, everything will be fine, just try to relax. It's not your fault", Jehan mumbled quietly.

The next half hour, neither of them said much. Combeferre however, was getting more anxious by the minute. He wanted – no needed – to be with Enjolras right now. "What is taking them so long? He was in recovery right? The doctor told us so. It shouldn't take them so long to get him settled in his own room!" He had once again resumed his pacing and when he asked the reception nurse if he could see his friend for the third time in fifteen minutes, Joly stood up and forced his friend to calm down.

"It's not taking them long Combeferre. It's only been half an hour since the doctor came, you know it usually takes at least half an hour and more often than not longer for a patient to get settled. Calm down and sit with us my friend, your pacing is setting everyone on edge and it's not helping Enjolras in any way."

Combeferre glowered at Joly. "Do you think I even care that people are getting nervous around me? I _don't _care Joly! I need to see him, I've been waiting long enough." Joly didn't back down this time. "Yes, I know 'Ferre, we've all been waiting and we're all worried, now come on." He placed a gentle hand on Combeferre's arm and tried to lead him back to a chair. Combeferre eventually let him.

When they passed Grantaire and Bahorel, Combeferre shot the drunkard a deadly glare; one even Enjolras would have difficulty to match. Bahorel, more than a little indignant, wanted to respond, but Joly withheld him from doing so with a simple pleading look. Grantaire didn't say anything. He only recoiled further in his own chair and averted his eyes from Combeferre.

After waiting another half hour – in which Combeferre had once again got back to his angry pacing and Grantaire had broken down for the hundredth time that evening – a nurse came into the waiting room asking for relatives of Julien Enjolras.

"I'm here to tell you we've got your friend settled in a room on the ICU and two of you can follow me to his room. I'm afraid I can't allow any more of you in for now, so I suggest to go home and get some rest."

Everyone knew Combeferre would be going to sit with Enjolras. There was no question and no doubt about that. But when Bahorel pushed Grantaire forward to be the second person to follow the nurse, Combeferre was no longer able to keep his cool.

"He's _not_ seeing Enjolras right now. I refuse to take him with me", Combeferre spat out angrily. "I don't want him anywhere near Julien at this point; it's due to his drunken carelessness he's in here in the first place!"

Grantaire immediately stepped back and nodded, muttering he understood and that he was sorry. But Bahorel did not take much liking to Combeferre's sneer towards Grantaire. He had had enough of Combeferre's behavior towards the drunkard in general. "It's not your decision to make 'Ferre. He is the one who brought Enjolras in, he has every right to be with him! Just as much as you do."

Combeferre laughed darkly, shook his head and stepped very close to Bahorel, so that they were merely inches away from each other. "Don't, Bahorel, I'm warning you. It most definitely _is _my decision to make and he does _not_ have a right to be with Enjolras right now", the bespectacled man said through clenched teeth. No one had ever seen him like this and it was quite an intimidating sight.

Before Bahorel could open his mouth and come with some sort of retort, Courfeyrac had pushed them away from each other. He took Combeferre apart from the others, and looked at him sympathetically. "Come on 'Ferre. Grantaire is already feeling guilty enough. Look at him, he needs to see that Enjolras is alright. I get that you're angry, I do, but.."

Combeferre didn't let him finish. "I don't care Courfeyrac. Did you hear what the doctor told us? He _crashed_ twice! Do you even know what that means? It means he nearly died _twice_! And it's because he was too drunk to act normal. I don't want him near Enjolras, not now, not yet. He can come back later. I'll keep him posted on Enjolras' condition, but he's _not_ coming in with me."

Courfeyrac knew there was no changing Combeferre's mind, so he sighed and nodded. "Then who is 'Ferre?" he asked silently. Sometimes, Combeferre's protective nature could be really frustrating, but he understood. There was no one else who meant more to Combeferre than Enjolras and the other way around.

"Aren't you supposed to be one of his closest friends too? I thought you'd want to see him", Combeferre said impatiently. That was true of course. Courfeyrac nodded and turned around to the rest of the Amis to tell them he and Combeferre were going to see Enjolras. Combeferre stayed back. He was done talking to them; he only wanted to see his friend.

"Combeferre and I will be going to see Enjolras, if that is okay with you?" he asked silently. Most of the others nodded, they hadn't expected otherwise, but Grantaire swallowed thickly and looked to the ground. Courfeyrac placed both his hands gently on the drunkards shoulders. "You know how he is 'Taire, when it comes to Enjolras. Try not to take it too hard, he's just really worried. He's basically a mother lion protecting her cub. He'll turn around", he said quietly, "I promise you'll see Enjolras soon enough alright? I'm sure he wants to see you as well."

Grantaire didn't know anything to say, so he just nodded and tried to manage a little smile. He indeed knew how Combeferre was when it came to Enjolras, but that didn't mean it hurt less. He just hoped Courfeyrac was right and that in time, Combeferre would forgive him.

Then Courfeyrac turned to the others. "Maybe you should all go home, get some rest and return later today? I swear I'll contact you as soon as there is any change in his condition." It took some convincing, but in the end the Amis agreed.

When Courfeyrac walked back to Combeferre, he was feeling rather proud of himself. He'd never played mediator before, that was usually Combeferre's job, but he thought he did it pretty good. He smiled at his friend and the nurse and said they were ready to go. "Took you long enough", Combeferre muttered under his breath, but Courfeyrac chose to ignore this comment.

As they walked through the hallways of the hospital, Combeferre started to feel physically ill with worry. And guilt. He wasn't exactly proud of his outburst to Grantaire and the others earlier. Silently he bumped his shoulder against Courfeyrac's. "I'm sorry Courf", he whispered brokenly. "I know I was being awful and.."

Courfeyrac shushed him and swung his arm around him. "Don't worry about it 'Ferre. You get to see Enjolras now, everything else will come later."

Neither boy was prepared for the sight that met them when they arrived at Enjolras' room. He looked much worse than when Combeferre sat with him four hours ago. He was still and would most likely be asleep for a while more, according to the nurse. It was mostly the protruding tube attached to Enjolras' mouth and the whooshing of the ventilator machine that made both Courfeyracs as Combeferre's heart skip a beat or two.

They sat down next to their blonde friend – each at one side – and watched him in silence for a moment. Then Combeferre leaned forward and carefully brushed the hair away from Enjolras' eyes. _I swear it has a will of its own_, he thought amused as he took hold of his roommate's hand. Even though it ached his heart to see Enjolras like this, he did feel slightly better now that he was with him again. Without really knowing he was doing it, he started a soft mantra of comforting and encouraging words.

Courfeyrac was quite shocked to see Enjolras like this. He had tried to be prepared, but it just was not right. Carefully, he copied Combeferre and took hold of Enjolras' other hand. And when Combeferre quietly started to talk to Enjolras; about how much he meant to them; about things they'd been through; about how worried everyone was – Grantaire included; about the homework that was waiting for him at home; Courfeyrac laid his head down next to Enjolras' hip and closed his eyes. The emotions he had been trying to keep in check for his friends' sake, were now pouring out of him and he let the tears flow.

He knew things between him and Combeferre were good when the latter started to gently stroke his hair. Courfeyrac listened to the medical student's ranting about anything and everything; he chuckled when Combeferre criticized Enjolras' eagerness to self-sacrifice and he squeezed the hand placed in his own when Combeferre begged their friend to be alright.

Combeferre's mantra and the monotone beeping of the machines in the end lulled Courfeyrac to a restless sleep. He would wake up a little while later to blaring noises and a panicked, painful gasping.

TBC.  
_  
(I know, I know, I promised you more Enjolras in this chapter! And I'm sorry that he hasn't really appeared yet, but I swear next chapter will be completely centered around him :) Hope you still liked this one though. Please let me know what you think!) _


	8. Chapter 8

_(Hello my dear readers! Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites and follows. Means a lot! And like I said, it inspires me to keep writing and updating, so welcome to another chapter :) Hope you like it, finally some more Enjolras, enjoy!)_

Enjolras was floating in a pleasant sort of unconsciousness. The kind where you couldn't be bothered by pain or worries; nightmares or fears. He was actually quite content in staying there and he couldn't help but think that the person trying so hard to wake him up, was kind of rude. He was perfectly fine where he was, so he tried to ignore the voice and sink back into that blissful oblivion.

But the voice wouldn't stop. There was not only pleading now; someone was actually telling him random stories, which his hazy mind couldn't quite comprehend. And was someone crying? That couldn't be right. _Maybe I should wake up; if only to make sure the person was alright._

Very slowly he rose up towards consciousness. He was now able to tell it was Combeferre talking to him. There was someone else there as well, but he didn't know who that would be. _Someone of the Amis no doubt_, he thought. He couldn't quite remember where he was or why Combeferre was talking to him while he wasn't even awake, although he did have very vague memories of pain and sirens. The antiseptic smell confirmed that he must be in a hospital.

Along with that awareness came the very uncomfortable feeling of being drugged. A feeling that numbed only the edges of pain, but did leave a person feeling confused, weak and not in control. Enjolras hated that feeling. He had experienced it a few times before and he had concluded he'd just rather deal with the pain than with the side-effects of drugs. He should tell Combeferre that.

Enjolras was on the verge of doing just that, when he suddenly became very much aware of not being able to breath. Something was choking him and making him gag at the same time. The feeling left him terrified. His eyes flew open and he started gasping for air. The immense pain his sudden conscious state brought on caused him to squeeze his eyes immediately shut again.

Machines were beeping and somewhere Combeferre was calling for help while trying to comfort him at the same time. But all Enjolras knew was pain and the feeling that he couldn't breathe. He tried to grab the tube and pull it out of his mouth, but someone held him still and he could just cry. He turned panicked eyes to Combeferre. He had to know. _I can't breathe. _

His heart was beating fast. Too fast. And the world started tilting around him. Somehow, in between the gasps and gagging, he was making horrible sounds and he could've sworn he felt tears leak out of his eyes. He started shaking, his head was pounding and his chest really, really hurt.

There was shouting around him, but he couldn't understand. And then suddenly there was a hand in his hair and someone was speaking very close to him; a soft murmuring directly in his ear. Something told him he should focus on that voice; try to make out the words, but it was a hard thing to do when you couldn't _breathe_.

"Calm down Julien, try to calm down and listen to what I'm saying. You're on a respirator, it's helping you breath. Don't fight it. You're going to be fine, just try to relax. I know you can do it Julien."

And Enjolras was trying, he really was, but it was just so damn hard. He didn't know exactly when or how, but suddenly his whole body relaxed and although it still felt very uncomfortable, he could breathe again. Combeferre was still very close and talking to him. Enjolras closed his eyes and welcomed the darkness.

* * *

Combeferre knew exactly when Enjolras was starting to wake up. It had been quite some time since he and Courfeyrac had entered the room to sit with their blonde friend. Courfeyrac had been asleep for at least an hour after breaking down earlier and he wasn't aware of the slight twitching of Enjolras' fingers; the moving of his eyes beneath their lids; the pained frown forming on his face.

Combeferre was aware of it all and he knew it wouldn't be long for Enjolras to reach consciousness. He encouraged his friend to wake up by speaking soft words to him – as he had been doing for pretty much the whole time.

He tried to prepare himself for the moment Enjolras actually woke up. It wouldn't be easy, he knew that. Combeferre had seen enough people waking up while still being intubated and it wasn't a nice way of waking. While the machine actually helped a person to breath, it felt as if one was choking.

He had hoped he would be able to convince his friend not to fight the machine; to just try and breath with it, but he wasn't prepared for the full blown panic attack that followed Enjolras' awakening. Combeferre had experienced one of Enjolras' panic attacks before and he was always able to calm him down relatively soon, but this one seemed much worse due to the initial shock of the ventilator combined with the pain. It was a horrible sight to see and Combeferre was quick to press the call button for help.

Machines started blaring and Courfeyrac was shocked awake. He looked as if he was on the verge of having a panic attack as well. "It's okay Courf, he just woke up, but he's panicking. I need you to keep him still, or he's going to aggravate his injuries."

Courfeyrac did as he was told, ignoring his heart that seemed to try and jump out of his chest. Combeferre in the meantime moved closer to his friend, shielding him and whispering quiet words. A desperate attempt to get Enjolras' to calm down, but he couldn't get through to him. He squeezed Enjolras' hand tightly and stroked his blonde curls. _Where the hell is that doctor_?

"Calm down Julien, try to calm down and listen to what I'm saying. You're on a respirator, it's helping you breath. Don't fight it; breathe with it. You're going to be fine, just try to relax. I know you can do it Julien. Breathe with me. In and out. Please, Julien"

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, but was more close to a minute, doctor Richieu came rushing in followed by two nurses. He was immediately aware of the situation; it wasn't all that rare, although the attack Enjolras was experiencing must have been one of the worst he'd seen.

He moved forward and ordered one of the nurses for a Midazolam injection. He had no doubt Combeferre was able to calm his friend down under normal circumstances, but with reference to the degree of injuries, Richieu thought it necessary to sedate the blonde right away. Combeferre seemed to agree with him, since he glanced up at the doctor and nodded curtly.

Combeferre felt Enjolras relax as soon as the doctor had injected him. He didn't move away from his friend until he knew he had once again fallen unconscious. When he looked up he saw a nurse near Courfeyrac obviously trying to calm him down. The brown-haired boy was as pale as a sheet an definitely shocked to the core by what he had just woken up to.

Combeferre reached out to him and held him close for a moment and reassured him everything was under control and it was just a natural reaction of Enjolras waking up while intubated. He then turned to the doctor, who was examining their friend.

"I hadn't expected him to wake so soon", Richieu said smiling. "It's a good sign. As was his fighting against the intubation. I always want to extubate a patient as soon as possible due to risk of pneumonia and it looks like monsieur Enjolras here is more than ready for it too."

He walked over towards the two boys and placed a gentle hand on Courfeyrac's shaking shoulder. "Your friend is right. What just happened is nothing really serious. Being intubated is extremely uncomfortable and can be quite scary. I've seen a patient panic more often than not." Courfeyrac nodded jerkily, although he still looked very shaken up.

Richieu then turned to Combeferre, who had once again taken his position next to Enjolras. "He'll probably wake soon again, but the sedation will withhold him from regaining complete awareness, so that he's a little more comfortable. We'll gradually wean him of the ventilator then. Let him slowly take more breaths on his own and when he's ready, we'll extubate. The tube will be replaced by an oxygen mask afterwards. It can be a long and uncomfortable process and not every patient wants their close ones to be present, but we'll discuss that with Julien when he wakes up again."

Combeferre nodded, but he already knew there was no way Enjolras was going through the extubate process alone. He looked at his blonde friend and said quietly "he was in a lot of pain, is that normal?"

Doctor Richieu smiled sadly. "Unfortunately yes, and he's going to be in quite some pain for a while. We already have him on the highest doses of painkillers and we can't keep him sedated all the time. But when the pain gets too bad, I'll see what I can do. I promise we'll try to make him as comfortable as possible."

"But he is okay for now right?" Courfeyrac asked in a small voice, while placing a soft kiss on Enjolras hand.

"There's a slight increase in temperature, but we're monitoring him closely and he has two wonderful friends watching his every move, so yes, he's okay for now." Doctor Richieu smiled at them and nodded once more. "I have other patients to see, but I'll be back soon. Don't shy away from asking questions. The nurses are here to answer you as well as they can and otherwise, they can always contact me."

When he left, Combeferre reached over Enjolras to take hold of Courfeyrac's hand. It was sweaty and trembling. He squeezed it gently and smiled at him. "Have a little faith mon Ami. You were the one who told me Enjolras was going to be okay, now start believing that yourself. You heard the doctor. He has finally given us some good news now."

Courfeyrac nodded and let out a relieved half-laugh half-sob. "Stupid", he mumbled quietly to Enjolras. Then he looked back up to Combeferre. "Should I call the others and tell them Enjolras woke up?"

Combeferre focused his attention back on Enjolras. He nodded absentmindedly while he gently stroked and played with the blond curls, a gesture Enjolras had always found annoyingly soothing. "They won't be allowed in here yet, so I don't know if they should come back to the hospital already, but they should know, yes. Don't call 'Taire though"

Courfeyrac was about to protest, but Combeferre held up his hand. "I want to call him myself. As soon as you've made your calls. I don't want Julien to be alone."

Courfeyrac nodded and smiled. Combeferre seemed to slowly return back to himself now that he was with his little 'brother'. He and R would no doubt be on shaky grounds for a while, but this was at least a first step in the right direction.

TBC.

_(Yay, finally some Enjolras! Are you happy? I'll try to update this soon, though you must know that I'll be going away for a few days and the weekend, so I'm not sure if I'll have internet. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter – hope it didn't disappoint – and till next time!_


	9. Chapter 9

_(Hi everyone! First of all, a big thanks to all of you who have followed, favorited or reviewed this story. It means a lot to me and it encourages me to keep writing and updating, so thanks! I can't seem to emphasize enough how much I appreciate it :). Now on to another chapter, hope you like it!)_

Combeferre stood hesitatingly in the hospital hallway, playing with the phone in his hand. Courfeyrac had called all the other Amis, to tell them Enjolras woke up and would be weaned off the ventilator soon. He had promised them he would call as soon as that was about to happen. He had called them all, except Grantaire, because Combeferre had said he wanted to call the drunkard himself.

Now that Courfeyrac had slipped inside Enjolras' room again so that Combeferre could make his call, the medical student was starting to regret his decision. A part of him knew he shouldn't be this mad at Grantaire, it was after all an accident, but Combeferre just couldn't get round the fact that Grantaire had put Enjolras in danger. A danger of which he nearly died.

Combeferre sighed deeply and clenched his teeth before tracing his fingers over the numbers. The phone only had to ring once. "Combeferre?" Combeferre almost smiled and he felt his heart warm a little. He had no doubt Grantaire had been sitting next to his phone ever since he and the Amis left the hospital earlier, not giving into the exhaustion that would have made itself known by now. He remembered the look on the drunkards face when he had forcefully refused him access to Enjolras' room. He knew he had been too harsh and he also knew Enjolras wouldn't be happy with it when he found out. But Combeferre was still convinced he had made the right decision.

"'Ferre?" Grantaire's voice now reduced to a fearful whisper.

"He woke", was all Combeferre said. And it was immediately followed by a relieved gasp and a half hearted laugh.

"Is he alright? Has he said anything? Is he going to be okay? I'm coming back to the hospital right now." Combeferre frowned and closed his eyes as he listened to Grantaire ramble. He was suddenly very aware of the steady throbbing of his head and all these questions weren't helping.

"Don't come, it's no use yet, you won't be able to see him anyway". Combeferre waited for a response, but was only met by silence, so he continued. "The doctor has sedated him after he woke up and started panicking. When he wakes again, they'll gradually wean him of the ventilator before they'll extubate. It's a good thing, but it can all take a long time. Courfeyrac is going to call you all again when the process is starting, it's best you come back then. If you come now, you'd only be sitting in the waiting room doing nothing."

The person on the other side of the phone only sniffed. After another moment of silence, he spoke again. "I'm coming back. It will be no different from what I'm doing now, so best just do it at the hospital. I'll be closer."

Combeferre nodded before realizing Grantaire couldn't actually see him. "Whatever you want Grantaire. I'll tell Courfeyrac you'll be waiting here. Goodbye."

He had almost hung up when Grantaire brokenly whispered his name. "Ferre? Please..."

"Please what?" Combeferre asked briskly, without really intending to. A sigh and then: "nothing, never mind. Goodbye 'Ferre". And with that Grantaire ended the call.

Combeferre stared at his phone and wondered what Grantaire was going to say to him. It would probably be the umpteenth apology and if so, Combeferre was glad Grantaire hung up the phone, because he wasn't ready to forgive the drunkard just yet. Quietly, he turned around and walked back to Enjolras' room to reclaim his rightful place next to the blonde.

"Everything okay?" Courfeyrac asked silently. He eyed the medical student warily and noticed how worn and tired his friend looked. Combeferre had been awake ever since Grantaire called him awake in the middle of the night and only slept for two hours before that. They were now at least six hours further and it seemed as if the lack of sleep combined with that ever persistent worry was beginning to catch up on him.

"I'm fine", he sighed, deliberately avoiding Courfeyrac's gaze and instead focusing on Enjolras' peaceful slumber. "Grantaire is coming back to the hospital. Said he might as well wait here instead of in his own apartment. He sounded exhausted, I don't think he has slept at all."

"Much like yourself in that case then", Courfeyrac said matter-of-factly. Combeferre snorted and raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, I guess", he mumbled, brushing away a few golden locks and closing his hand around Enjolras'.

They waited for another two hours. Courfeyrac had been dozing off most of the time, while Combeferre stayed in his seat, watching and thinking. But not sleeping. Just like last time, he was able to read the signs of Enjolras waking up. This time however, he immediately pressed the call button, so that the doctor would be present when Enjolras awoke.

It took the blonde a good half hour to regain complete consciousness. Like Doctor Richieu had predicted, Enjolras was still slightly out of it, but he did start to struggle weakly against the breathing tube as soon as he became aware of it. It was at that moment that the doctor explained to his patient what they were about to do and how the procedure would work. In the meantime, Courfeyrac held a firm hold of Enjolras' hand and Combeferre carded his fingers through the blondes locks, both to reassure their friend as much as themselves.

"There are two ways of taking a patient of a ventilator: suddenly and gradually. I have decided to go for the gradual process, because I don't want to take the risk of putting your body through a possible shock it could cause. So we're going to do it gradually and let you slowly take more breaths on your own. And when we deem you ready, we'll extubate, but you need to understand that it can be a long process. In some cases, a person is ready to be extubated within two hours, but it can just as well take a day or sometimes longer. It can be an unpleasant procedure. It's possible you feel out of breath sometimes and it's also possible to stop the weaning process if you're not ready for it after all, but let's assume that won't be the case. Although the process in itself won't actually be painful, some patients do experience an uncomfortable feeling throughout. The nurse and I will decide when you're ready for extubation but we'll give you more information on that procedure when we come to it."

Enjolras winced and blinked slowly, trying to comprehend what the doctor was saying. It was a lot of information and his mind was foggy. He was already feeling miserable though, so how much worse could it get?

"We'll be monitoring you closely the whole time and both of your friends are allowed to stay should you want them to. There will also be a nurse in here at all times and I will be checking up on you frequently during the procedure. When you're ready, I'll extubate you myself. So if you understand what I've just told you, we can start the weaning process."

Doctor Richieu eyed Enjolras quizzically and the blonde frowned a little before slowly nodding his head. He decided that he wanted both Courfeyrac and Combeferre with him for now and neither of them seemed to have even considered leaving his side.

When the doctor turned to the nurses for instructions, Combeferre turned Enjolras' head towards him. "You heard what the doctor said okay? It can be a slow process and I have no doubt it will be very frustrating for you when you're progress isn't as fast as you should want it, but I need you to promise that you're not going to overdo it, because you'll be right back on that thing and it'll only take longer. Promise me you'll listen to them; follow their orders and don't be your stubborn, pedantic self."

Courfeyrac stifled a laugh and Enjolras tried to glare at Combeferre, but when that didn't seem to have any effect, he settled for a curt nod. Combeferre smiled satisfied and watched Courfeyrac stand. "I'll inform the others", he said kissing Enjolras' hand lightly and then he walked towards the door. "Be right back, you can start the fun without me!" Combeferre rolled his eyes and Enjolras tried to chuckle, but immediately regretted it when the movement made him feel as though he was choking again and he winced painfully instead. "Easy", Combeferre soothed.

To Enjolras' utmost annoyance, the weaning process took more than six hours. He had fallen asleep twice which caused minor setbacks in the procedure and he felt absolutely miserable the whole time. In his own opinion, he had been more than ready to have the tube pulled out hours ago, but every time the doctor came to check, he shook his head and Enjolras grew more and more frustrated. The numbing effects of the earlier sedation had worn off, leaving him to deal with the pain on top of the whole breathing process.

Both Combeferre and Courfeyrac noticed the growing irritation of their friend. They saw it in the way he clenched his teeth, pressed his lips and in the way he looked at both Richieu and the nurses. Combeferre shot him a warning glare when he rolled his eyes visibly at the girl checking his vitals. They were almost just as relieved as Enjolras when the doctor finally agreed upon extubation.

When Doctor Richieu explained to Enjolras what they were going to do, the blonde felt a small blush spread his cheeks. It didn't sound all that pleasant. "Before we remove the tube, Babette here will suction down the breathing tube in order to clear any sputum or secretions that may stop you from breathing after extubation. Then another suction is required in order to clear any secretions in your mouth. Lastly, we'll take down the breathing tube's cuff and then I'll remove the tube. After extubation we will apply an oxygen mask to assist your breathing and we'll keep monitoring you closely in order to manage a successful process. The whole process will only take a few minutes, but you may feel and look uncomfortable and it's very understandable if you don't want your friends present."

Enjolras looked from Combeferre to Courfeyrac and bit the inside of his cheek nervously. He wanted Combeferre with him, of that he was certain, but he wasn't sure if he wanted Courfeyrac to be present as well. He didn't want to hurt his friend's feelings. Fortunately Courfeyrac was quick to catch up on Enjolras' internal struggle and he decided to make it easier for him. He gently squeezed Enjolras' hand. "If you don't mind, I'm going to check on our friends. They've all been waiting six hours for news about you, so they'll be tearing their hairs out by now". Enjolras smiled at him gratefully and Courfeyrac winked. "Be good and don't upset 'Ferre", he called before stepping out the room and closing the door behind him.

The whole procedure did indeed take only a few minutes, but Enjolras was glad Courfeyrac wasn't there to witness it. Combeferre remained silent through it all, with exception of a few encouraging words or touches. By the time the tube was out and the oxygen mask set in place, Enjolras was exhausted. And he was asleep as soon as the doctor said he could.

"He seems to be doing as well as can be expected", Richieu said kindly to Combeferre while eying the monitor. "We'll keep a close eye on him and he'll have to do with that mask for a while, but at least it'll be more comfortable."

When the doctor offered to send a nurse to the waiting room to inform his friends, Combeferre shook his head. He wanted to tell them himself and since Enjolras was asleep and doing relatively well, he thought he could allow himself a few minutes out of the room. As soon as he arrived he felt a great love for his friends warm his heart. They were all there; every one. They were seated close together, working on a 'get-well-soon' card and they all looked as if they hardly had had any sleep at all. Grantaire looked worst of all, and Combeferre suddenly felt an urge to wipe that hurted look of his face.

He quietly approached them and smiled when they noticed him. "He's off the ventilator", he said proudly. "Doctor says he's doing as well as can be expected." A unified, relieved breath swept through the group of friends. Grantaire smiled slightly and wiped the tears that fell away. When he looked up, he saw Combeferre staring at him with an expression he couldn't quite place. Then Combeferre nodded shortly and spoke softly: "Do you want to see him 'Taire?"

Grantaire let out a choked sob and lurched forward to Combeferre. He threw his arms around the medical student and nodded fiercely. And although Combeferre wasn't really ready for forgiving and forgetting, he couldn't hold back the smile spreading across his face.

TBC.

_(An extra long chapter for you, because you are all so awesome! Enjolras seems to be on the mend…don't get too excited though, you all know I have a weak spot for hurt Enjolras ;) I really hope you liked this chapter, please let me know what you think! Till next time)_


	10. Chapter 10

_(Hi guys! First of all I want to thank all you lovely reviewers, followers and favorit'ers. It means so much to me to know that my writing is appreciated. Second of all, I know this chapter is kind of late and I'm sorry for that. I've just been really busy with my studies and I'm heading towards a deadline on Friday, but after that I will have more spare time, so bare with me :) Hope you'll enjoy this chapter!)_

Grantaire nervously followed Combeferre out in the hallway and together they walked towards Enjolras' room. Grantaire had been waiting for this moment for hours. Hours he had spent worrying; hating himself for what had happened; wishing he could be the one sitting next to his idol's bed. And now that the moment was finally here and Combeferre allowed him to go and see Enjolras, he was scared to death.

He didn't know what to expect. Well, he knew what Combeferre and Courfeyrac had told him and the other Amis, but he didn't know how Enjolras would respond to him being there. _What if he wants me gone? What if he hates me? Will he forgive me?_

He swallowed nervously and glanced sideways to Combeferre, who was taking much bigger steps than he'd normally do; anxious to get back to Enjolras' room as soon as possible. He wondered if the fact that Combeferre allowed him in with Enjolras meant that the medical student wasn't angry at him anymore. He really hoped that was the case, but he doubted it. He cleared his throat and decided to speak, but Combeferre beat him to it.

"You need to understand something before we go in Grantaire", he said curtly. He kept his voice low and his eyes averted. "Enjolras is extremely weak at the moment and he needs sleep and rest more than anything. He's in a lot of pain and the painkillers won't always work, so sleep is practically the only full pain reliever he has. The whole extubate procedure was hard on him and by the time we finished, he was exhausted. He's asleep now and I'd like to keep it that way for at least a few more hours. It's important and this way he builds up his strength."

Grantaire didn't say anything; he only nodded. He understood. Of course Enjolras needed rest, he knew that, so why would Combeferre make such an effort to get this through to him. When they arrived at Enjolras' room, the medical student turned around and looked Grantaire in the eyes.

"I'm telling you, because I know how upset you are and seeing him is probably going to be a shock, but I need you to hold yourself together for Enjolras' sake", Combeferre explained. And then he added: "I don't want you to wake him up, alright…you understand that don't you?"

Combeferre sounded so tired at that moment and almost guiltily, as if he was asking a great deal of Grantaire, which he wasn't. At least, Grantaire didn't think so. "Of course I understand", he muttered, "I just want to see him".

Combeferre nodded and smiled a little, but before he could open the door, Grantaire grabbed his arm. "Combeferre", he began nervously, "I know you're still pissed and you have every right to be, but I just wanted you to know that I really appreciate it that you let me see him and…and I-I really am sorry 'Ferre…I can't express it in words, but I am and I hope you'll be able to forgive me some day".

He looked away again, suddenly very aware of how vulnerable he had sounded and Combeferre's scrutinizing look only made the feeling worse. Then he felt two hands lightly press his shoulders, forcing him to meet Combeferre's eyes again. The medical student eyed him closely and pressed his lips together. Then he sighed and squeezed one shoulder gently.

"You're right, I am still mad and all is not okay, not yet. I am only taking you with me because I know Enjolras would want me to; he would probably be very disappointed in me if I kept refusing you to see him", he hesitated but once he saw how Grantaire's shoulders slumped the minute he mentioned he was still angry, he knew what he had to add. "I do know you're sorry though, I do 'Taire and I know that you would switch places with him at once if it was possible".

He took a breath and pushed Grantaire's chin up so that their eyes locked. Combeferre needed to be sure that Grantaire heard his next words. "And I will forgive you Grantaire, of course I will…" , he chuckled, "maybe I already have, I don't know…I think we'll be okay, I know we'll be okay…but though I will forgive R, I won't forget. I'll never forget…so don't ask that of me".

Grantaire wasn't sure if that was supposed to make him feel better, but it did feel as if a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He smiled understandingly and nodded at his friend, who gave a curt nod in response. "Alright then, let's go inside before you die of nerves and anticipation". It was meant as a joke, but Grantaire felt it might just be possible.

As soon as Combeferre opened the door and Grantaire laid eyes on the sleeping form that was Enjolras, he couldn't hold back the sudden gasp followed by a choked sob that ripped through his throat. This earned him a disapproving and slightly irritated look from Combeferre, who had already reached his chair next to Enjolras' right.

Grantaire was momentarily frozen to the spot and all he could do was bite his tongue to keep from breaking down. He felt silent tears flow from his eyes as he took in the deathly pallor of his Apollo; the bruises; the white bandages; the oxygen mask; the various IV lines and machinery. He let out a shaky breath before sliding in the chair on Enjolras' left.

Combeferre eyed Grantaire warily before focusing his attention on his roommate. _Maybe it's a good thing he didn't see Enjolras on the ventilator_. That had already been such a shock to himself and to Courfeyrac, and since Grantaire was already falling apart seeing his friend like this, Combeferre could only imagine how he would've reacted when he had been present earlier.

"Relax", he whispered without looking at Grantaire, "he'll be okay. I know it looks scary, but he's actually doing relatively well." It took the cynic a moment to realize Combeferre was talking to him. He swallowed thickly and nodded once.

They sat like that for quite some time. Somewhere between getting used to the image of his Apollo in the bed and calming his own racing thoughts, Grantaire had quietly started to talk to Enjolras. His voice was barely more than a whisper and although Combeferre did shoot him a warning glance, he allowed Grantaire to keep up his ranting.

The cynic talked about everything he could think of; starting off with a round of apologies, then jokes, then some sarcastic comments and then back to the apologies again. He was so lost in his own words he didn't even notice how his soft murmuring had lulled the medical student to a highly needed sleep. Neither did he notice the two blue eyes which were now open and looking at him.

* * *

Enjolras awoke to the soft sound of someone talking. He wasn't sure if the words were directed at him or just said to no one in particular; they hardly made any sense.

When he opened his eyes he was met with the familiar sight of two of his Amis next to him, although this time it wasn't Courfeyrac, but Grantaire. The drunkard looked horrible in Enjolras opinion and the blonde had no doubt it had everything to do with the fact that he was lying here in bed practically incapable of doing anything at all.

Enjolras knew Grantaire hadn't noticed yet that he was awake and watching him. He just kept on rambling, looking somewhat blankly ahead. When Enjolras focused his attention on the other boy next to him, he felt warmth fill his heart. Combeferre had placed both his arms on the bed as close to him as he could get without disturbing any of the IV lines in his forearm. His hand was still loosely curled around Enjolras' and his head rested on top of his arm. He was sound asleep.

Enjolras smiled at his oldest friend and lightly stroked one of Combeferre's fingers with his thumb. He then turned to face Grantaire again, who still hadn't noticed he was awake. Enjolras frowned amused and carefully nudged the drunkard with his bandaged elbow. As soon as Grantaire looked up at Enjolras – eyes wide of shock and mouth ready to call his name – the blonde weakly shook his head and nodded in Combeferre's direction.

Grantaire followed Enjolras' gaze and chuckled softly. "I think this is the first time he has allowed himself some sleep", he whispered before he turned concerned eyes back on his blonde friend. "Enjolras, I am so sorry for what happened, I really am, you have to know that, please forgive me." His eyes filled with tears again, but before he could say more he was shushed by a silent and muffled "don't".

It sounded nowhere near his usual voice, but Enjolras guessed it would have to do. He tried to smile at Grantaire although he had no idea the drunkard could see it through the mask and then he continued slowly: "Don't feel g-guilty…'s not..'s not your fault. 'M not mad". The words were slurred and he couldn't believe how much effort it took him to get them out. "I'll be out o'here in no time…I p-promise". Not just yet though. He was so tired. Too tired to even acknowledge the pain he was in.

Without really noticing himself, his eyes had slipped shut again and he was practically back asleep when he felt a rough hand stroke his hair softly. "S okay Apollo, just rest and sleep, we'll be here".

TBC.

_(Okay, I know this was probably a really boring chapter. I am just so busy with my studies but I did wanted to give you an update because it had been so long, so this was sort of what flowed out. Please don't be too disappointed, I'll do better next time :) Please let me know what you think and share you own ideas, they are always welcome! Till next time)_


	11. Chapter 11

_(Hi lovely readers! So this is my third story update in three days :) I'm happy! Are you? I want to thank all you brilliant people for letting me know what you think of this story. I appreciate it so much. Also a great thanks to the followers and favourites. You are the best! Hope you enjoy this next chapter!)_

When Combeferre woke up, the first thing he became aware of was a sharp pain in the back of his neck. He blinked his eyes open and rubbed at the sensitive muscles. Clearly he had been straining his neck while he was asleep. He noticed his hand still curled around Enjolras' and looked up at the blonde man. He was still out for the count; sleeping almost peacefully had it not been for the slight traces of pain edged across his face.

"Good nap?"

The voice made Combeferre's head snap to the left. He had expected Grantaire to still be there, but instead, he found Courfeyrac grinning back at him. The other boy guessed Combeferre's confusion and explained. "You've been asleep for quite some time my friend. Clearly you needed it. I've send Grantaire home – with some help from the doctor. He practically collapsed due to lack of sleep and, well, you know, slight symptoms of withdrawal."

Combeferre stared dumbly at Courfeyrac for a moment. "He went willingly?"

Another smile and the joyous student stretched a hand out to brush some locks out of Enjolras' eyes. "Not exactly...it took some convincing. It helped when Enjolras here told him to 'get the hell out and sleep already'...It's really kind of impressing you know. You've slept through it all."

"Julien woke up?"

"Yeah, twice now, although both times he was out again within a few minutes. Grantaire told me about the first time he woke up. You'd apparently only just fallen asleep and Enjolras was only awake long enough to tell Grantaire he wasn't mad at him."

Combeferre frowned at that, but said nothing. "Second time he woke to the fuss doctor Richieu and I were making in the hallway when we tried to convince Grantaire to go home. When he refused and re-entered the room, Enjolras told him to he'd be fine and that he wanted Grantaire to take care of himself. He would've said the same for you, but well, you see...you were already out and none of us had the heart to wake you up."

The medical student nodded and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He was not nearly close to rested, but he wasn't going to sleep any more and risk missing Enjolras waking up again. He cleared his throat and focused his attention once more on the pale blonde. "How was he doing? When he woke? Was he okay?" Combeferre whispered.

Courfeyrac thought about that for a second. "It's hard to say, he was only awake for such a short amount of time, but the pain seemed to be manageable. Or well, Enjy-manageable."

Combeferre snorted softly and smoothed the blankets of Enjolras' hospital bed. "Yeah, there's quite a difference there", he said smiling. "So the doctor didn't give you or Grantaire any news about his condition?"

"Not really. There monitoring his temperature more closely now; it had risen a little, but the doctor didn't think it was anything too serious. And the small cuts and bruises seem to start healing nicely, so that's good."

Combeferre nodded and gently squeezed the hand in his. He glanced outside. The sun had already went down, which meant he had slept for a good three hours. "Anything else happened while I was out?"

Courfeyrac shook his head slowly. "Not really. The Amis are coming and going; Eponine called in to ask how things were with Enjolras and Grantaire and you. Oh! And", he said with glee and a grin that spread from ear to ear, "we've finished our get-well card, do you like it? We've had to search the world for a funny pic of you, but I think we succeeded. You're the only one who still has to sign it."

The curly haired boy handed over a large card. The edges were bright pink, decorated with flowers, hearts and little Eiffel towers – undoubtedly a design made by Jehan – and within the edges were pictures of all the Amis – including Eponine, Cosette and Musichetta –in the most peculiar ways. Courfeyrac's photo took the cake, although Combeferre was impressed by the faces of Bahorel and Marius as well. Some had their tongues sticking out; others had goggly eyes. Eponine faked a punch to the camera and Grantaire had pulled out his most seductive face. Combeferre's own photo was one he had never seen before and that most likely had been taken on one of those rare occasions he had been drunk. The inside of the card was scribbled to the max, with still one blank piece in the middle.

"Jehan was able to pull some strings at the print shop, so they've made ours a priority order", Courfeyrac whispered, watching the serene smile spreading across Combeferre's face.

"He's going to like this", the bespectacled student said quietly. He felt so proud of all his friends and he thanked whoever was listening for the bond that they all shared.

Combeferre let his eyes trace over the various writings of his friends. They varied from beautiful to sad to funny; each text seemed to fit its author perfectly. He chuckled at Bahorel's note: _Enjolras, you're an idiot. You stand tall and unharmed at the most dangerous protests and then you get yourself knocked over by as simple as a little car. Don't be stupid and get well soon or I'll have to punch you. Adios, Bahorel_.

He felt his heart skip a beat as he read Jehan's poem. It was beautiful and heartbreaking and just so right. Courfeyrac's was humorous of course, that was his speciality. But Combeferre was surprised at Grantaire's note. It was short and cheerless and not at all like the drunken cynic: _Dear Apollo, I'm sorry for being me. Please get well soon, I'll do better. R_.

Combeferre frowned and looked up quizzically at Courfeyrac. "Yeah, I know...Grantaire wrote his before you came and took him to see Enjolras. We've tried to get him to write something less depressing, but he refused."

The medical student sighed sadly and accepted the pen Courfeyrac handed him. He kept his message short and gentle; knowing he could pour all his love and appreciation for his blonde roommate in just a few simple words. _Dear_ _Julien, get well soon, I need someone to mother-hen. Love, 'Ferre._

When the card was complete, Courfeyrac placed it prominently on Enjolras' bedside table. Then he and Combeferre fell into a comfortable, though silent, chatter; both more or less waiting for their leader to wake up again and hopefully be more coherent.

* * *

It took a little over an hour for Enjolras to slowly join the waking world again. He smiled tiredly at the two friends seated next to his bed. A small concern crossed his mind as soon as he realized he was still feeling exhausted. Every time he woke up from what seemed to be a long and deep sleep, he woke up fatigued; as if he'd been running a marathon. _Guess it's part of the healing process_, he thought.

"Hey there blondie", Courfeyrac said smiling as if he was the freaking Cheshire cat himself. "Glad you joined the land of the living again."

"How are you feeling Julien?"

Enjolras tried to scowl at Courfeyrac and then turned to his roommate. He blinked up at him tiredly and said quietly: "I'm doing okay 'Ferre...'M just tired. Really tired." His eyes were drooping already and he seemed quite confused to Combeferre.

"Still?" The medical student asked concernedly. "You've been asleep for practically twelve hours straight since you were extubated..." It wasn't that Combeferre had expected Enjolras to be up and about, but the boy could hardly keep his eyes open for longer than a few seconds and his speech was slow and slurred. As if he wasn't really there. He hadn't been sedated for a long while, so it couldn't be because of that and the drugs he was getting weren't supposed to make him this incoherent.

Without a second thought, he pressed the call button. At Courfeyrac's questioning look, he said softly he just wanted to ask the doctor some questions. "I'm fine 'Ferre", Enjolras whispered again. "Don't worry, I'm just tired from...from...sleeping?"

Combeferre rolled his eyes and smoothed the blonde curls back. Enjolras' breathing was already evening out again when the doctor came in. He listened carefully to Combeferre's concerns and did another check over of his patients vitals.

"He's doing the same as a few hours ago. It's not all that weird that he's tired. His body went through a great trauma and it's getting its strength back through rest. It's a good thing."

"Yeah, but should he be this exhausted? I'm not even sure when he's awake or asleep. One second he's talking to me and the other he's out again." Combeferre said worriedly.

"We're already monitoring him closely. If anything changes, we'll know and right now he seems to be doing no worse than last time I checked on him." Doctor Richieu smiled politely at the medical student and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I suggest you do the same as your friend. Go home for a short while, get some rest, get cleaned up. The hospital will contact you as soon as there are any changes; or your friends will." With that, the doctor left the room, leaving the three boys alone.

Combeferre only shook his head and turned to Enjolras again. His eyes locked with bright blue ones and before the blonde even opened his mouth, Combeferre already knew what he was going to say. "No, Julien. I'm not leaving."

He ignored Courfeyrac's exasperated sigh and crossed his arms defiantly. Enjolras smiled faintly – only just noticeable behind the oxygen mask – and squeezed his friend's hand. He took a deep and shaky breath. "Combeferre, no offense, but you need a shower. And some proper sleep. Please, if only for a few hours, go home and get cleaned up...for me?"Combeferre hated that. He hated that pleading look and those simple two words. He really didn't want to go. He didn't want to leave him. He wanted to say just that, but Enjolras wouldn't let him.

"Please 'Ferre? I'd feel better if I knew you took some care of yourself. You'd say the same thing, you know you would. Besides...Courf is here." His eyes had slipped closed again and he was barely able to finish his sentence.

Courfeyrac looked at the medical student knowingly and nodded. "He's right you know. You would've send him home way earlier if things were the other way around. And I will stay here with him; Jehan is on his way as well, and we'll contact you as soon as something happens. You know we will."

It took a few more words and a lot more pleading looks for Combeferre to finally consent. "Fine", he whispered near Enjolras' ear, "if it means that much to you, I'll go home and get some rest, but Julien...be good, okay? I don't want them to call me, so please...just be okay"

* * *

Combeferre had reluctantly left the hospital shortly after. His seat was taken by the young blonde poet, anxious to finally see Enjolras himself. Twice, the medical student thought about turning the car around and drive right back, but he couldn't. Because he promised Enjolras he would take care of himself for a little while now. And he never broke a promise to Enjolras.

When he got home, he turned the volume of his mobile phone up and collapsed on his bed. He was asleep within seconds. He didn't sleep very long, but when he woke up, he felt at least a lot more rested. He'd only take a short shower and then he would make his way back to the hospital.

He turned the hot water on and checked his phone for messages. There was only one, from Courfeyrac saying. "Enjolras wants you gone for at least six hours, just so you know. He gave Grantaire another minimum of eight hours, so count yourself lucky."

He smiled and stepped inside the shower; relishing in the hot water which was a blessing to his sore muscles. Just as he allowed himself to enjoy it, his Santana ringtone echoed through the little room. He felt an iron fist clench his heart as he stumbled out of the shower at once and grabbed his phone. "Hello?"

"'Ferre... He's had a setback. We need you here"

TBC.

_(Yeah...don't be mad. I feel like I needed a little cliffy, hehe. Hope you enjoyed reading this one and please let me know what you thought of this chapter. Ideas are always welcome too! Till next time!)_


	12. Chapter 12

_(Hi guys! Thanks for all the wonderful responses and reviews. I really appreciate it so much. A huge thanks goes to __**frustratedstudent**__, who has enlightened me with some medical knowledge and without whom this chapter and the next would probably have been a total medical disaster! Hope you like this chapter and please let me know what you think afterwards :) Enjoy!)_

Combeferre couldn't believe what he was hearing. A setback? How? Why? He stood momentarily frozen in the bathroom; water dripping from his hair and body. When he found his voice again, after what seemed like ages, it came out harsh and he sounded out of breath.

"A setback? What the hell are talking about Courf? He was doing fine when I left! What the hell happened?"

Panic took over the minute the phone had started ringing and it grew by the second as he stumbled towards his bedroom to get dressed. _Why did I leave? Why on earth did I let them convince me to leave? I knew something wasn't right, I knew it...Please be okay, Julien._ His heart was beating so loud, he feared it would jump out of his chest any minute. When Courfeyrac didn't answer right away, Combeferre's panic upped a notch. "Courf, what happened?"

The man on the other side of the line let out a desperate sigh, groaned and then answered brokenly: "I don't know 'Ferre...I don't know what the hell happened. One minute he's just sleeping peacefully...well, you know, as far as a person can sleep peacefully in the state he's in...and then the next he wakes up and he's shivering and confused and then Jehan says his hands are cold and clammy… and then I start to realize he's looking awfully pale... We tried to comfort him and he seemed quite alright at first, but before either of us could even think something was seriously wrong, these machines started blearing and doctors ran in and they shoved us out of the room and I don't know what the hell is wrong!"

His words were jumbled and it felt as if he didn't make any sense. He was practically crying at that point, holding on to a just as shocked Jehan, while the same moment kept repeating in his head. "We're in the waiting room now… Joly had just arrived with Bossuet and when he saw us he immediately went and tried to find out what is wrong, but he hasn't come back yet. It can't be good though, and I'm scared...I'm scared 'Ferre...get here, please?"

Combeferre's breath caught in his throat as he tried to process all Courfeyrac was saying. This was the second time someone had to call him with bad news about his best friend. And the second time he wasn't there with him. He cursed himself for leaving. When he tried to open his car with his car keys, he realized how badly his hands were shaking.

"I'm already on my way", he whispered as he felt his eyes fill with tears. He couldn't believe this was happening. Enjolras was doing fine...He was doing fine. And now this happened. Whatever 'this' was… "I'm in the car now, I'll be there in a few minutes."

When he hung up the phone, he clenched and unclenched his hands and took a few deep breaths before starting the engine. Desperate thoughts were racing through his head. _Could I have known? Should I have seen this coming? What was wrong with him? Was he going to be okay? Please be okay. Why did I leave?_ That last bit proved most persistent as he started mumbling it like some sort of mantra out loud. _Why did I leave? Why did I leave?_

He vaguely wondered if he should be making calls to the other Amis, but then assumed Courfeyrac was probably already doing that. Grantaire would take this hard; he was already carrying more guilt to last a lifetime and this news might increase it even more. Combeferre let out a shuddering breath and wiped a hand down his face. Why did this have to happen to them?

* * *

While Combeferre was speeding towards the hospital, Courfeyrac dialed the next number with trembling fingers. He had asked Jehan and Bossuet to make some calls as well, so that all the Amis were notified as soon as possible. Combeferre had of course been the first one to be called and Courfeyrac was glad – although not surprised – that the medical student had picked up his phone after the first ring.

Now, he was anxiously waiting for the second person to pick up his phone, which seemed to take a little longer. After the third ring there was a gruff and sleepy answer and Courfeyrac did not waist time on small talk, but got straight to the point. And even though he was still shaky and terrified of what happened himself, he managed to keep himself together – at least more than he had when he called Combeferre.

"R, you need to come back to the hospital. There's been a setback…I don't think it's good."

The man on the other side of the line remained silent and for a minute Courfeyrac thought Grantaire wasn't there anymore. But then he heard something that sounded a lot like a strangled sob, followed by a whispered voice. "What happened?"

"We don't know yet. Joly is trying to find that out, Combeferre is already on his way here; he should be here any minute and we're calling all the others as well… I think we all need to be here, you know…just…just in case."

Another silence and then: "What do you mean 'just in case'? Just in case what? He's not going to die, he said he would be okay! He can't die, Courf, he made a promise to me…and to Combeferre as well. He can't die! Don't say things like that, don't you dare."

He was definitely crying now; jumbled words combined with harsh hiccups and sobs. Courfeyrac bit his lip and then said softly. "I don't know what's going to happen R, just get here please?" And then he hung up. It might be harsh, but he knew now that Grantaire would at least be on his way as soon as possible instead of starting another round of yelling, questioning and panicking over the phone.

After they had made their calls, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Bossuet sat down quietly in the waiting room. They didn't say anything; what was there to say? Things had seemed to be going good; Enjolras had been making progress. No one had expected this. And all three were too shocked to speak. So instead, they just waited in silence for Joly to come back with news; they waited for Combeferre and the others to arrive; and above all they waited and prayed for Enjolras to 'please be okay'.

* * *

Combeferre arrived in the waiting room just when Joly returned from his quest for information. All eyes focused on him and Combeferre walked up to the other medical student immediately. Joly's expression however said enough. "They wouldn't tell me anything yet", he whispered regrettably…"I think the nurses weren't really sure themselves and they seemed reluctant to say anything about it at all…But I know he's no longer in his room on ICU, because I sneaked up there and it was empty." Then he turned to Combeferre with large, scared eyes. "I think it's bad 'Ferre…"

Combeferre felt his heart skip a beat and a wave of anger washed over him. "They can't do that. They can't keep us in the dark like that, we're his family; I'm his family, I need to know where he is!" His voice broke at those last words and he felt a few desperate tears slide down his cheeks. He wiped them away angrily and added: "He has me as his emergency contact, I deserve to know what's going on, Joly."

Joly nodded sadly and placed a calming hand on his friends' shoulder. "According to Jehan and Courfeyrac everything went so fast…this all happened only less than half an hour ago, it can be that they just haven't received information yet…we'll check again in a few minutes and we'll keep checking until they tell us more, I promise."

Combeferre nodded and pressed his lips together. Then he turned to Jehan and Courfeyrac with pleading eyes. "Tell me what happened?" He asked quietly, as he was pushed into a chair by Joly. Courfeyrac only shook his head dejectedly. "I already told you 'Ferre…I don't know what more to say. Everything just went so fast…Before Jehan or I could suspect anything was really wrong, those machines started blearing and I don't know what happened afterwards. They just yelled something about dropping rates and a low blood pressure, that's all we heard. It was all very sudden and…I just don't know 'Ferre…I'm sorry."

"Was he in pain?" Combeferre asked in a small voice.

This time it was Jehan who spoke up; he sounded far from his usual happy self. "I don't think he was…He just seemed confused and he barely woke up at all…His hands were cold and a bit clammy and he was pale, but like Courf said, it wasn't something that alerted us immediately…until all hell seemed to break loose in that damned room."

Combeferre gritted his teeth as he listened to Jehan and he let his head hang low. _Was this really happening?_

* * *

Within the next ten minutes, all of the Amis had arrived; all wore the same scared and nervous expression on their face. It was Bossuet who told them the latest news, seeing as Jehan and Courfeyrac were more or less drained and too lost in their own thoughts and Combeferre and Joly kept walking back and forth between the nurses' station and the group of friends.

Grantaire was the last one to arrive. He came together with Eponine, after Courfeyrac had asked her to check up on the drunkard and bring him here if he wasn't already on his way. Grantaire didn't acknowledge any of them, except for Combeferre, who only shook his head curtly to tell him they still didn't know anything.

After forty five minutes of waiting and asking for information, Combeferre and Joly finally returned back to the Amis with more news; although the nurses still weren't able to answer all the questions of the two medical students. Combeferre's stomach sank as he listened to them and he felt as if he was falling in a dark, black hole.

Upon seeing the two pale faces and Combeferre's quivering lower lip, the Amis knew they were about to receive bad news on their blonde friend. And though they all looked at him expectantly, Combeferre wasn't able to get out any words. Joly noticed and squeezed his friend's hand reassuringly. Then he turned to the group of friends and spoke.

"Another bleeding", he said quietly and though he tried to keep his voice steady and even, he couldn't hold back the slight tremor. "He's in surgery again…he's been in surgery for more than half an hour now. That's all they know…"

TBC.

_(There we go, another chapter done. Hope you liked it. Please let me know what you think and leave a review? They always help me a lot! Till next time!) _


	13. Chapter 13

_(Hi guys! Again, a huge thank to all of you lovely people who deem this story worth of a follow, favorite or review. It means the world to me! I've tried to respond to each of your reviews, except to those of Lolalufnagle, Jen and Guest, so hereby I thank you as well :) I feel so flattered. I was struggling a little with this chapter, but hopefully it turned out okay. Enjoy!)_

_Another bleeding. Another surgery. Another anxious round of waiting._ That was what ran through the heads of all the Amis. They couldn't believe this was happening; they were told, time and again, by the doctor that Enjolras was doing as well as could be expected. And now he was back in theatre and no one knew what was going on. They'd hardly gotten any information. They didn't know what kind of bleeding they were dealing with; they didn't know how the operation was going; they didn't know how long it would take; they didn't even know if their friend was still alive.

Combeferre felt as if he was slowly losing his mind. He had a hard time accepting what was going on. _It's not true. It can't be true_. And every time he got close to realizing that this was in fact really happening, he felt sick to his stomach and he had to fight the urge to hurl. He didn't know what to feel or how to act. The only thing he knew for sure was that he was furious with himself.

_You should never have left_. Combeferre could curse himself. He had known something wasn't right. The sheer exhaustion Enjolras was suffering from just wasn't normal. His friend slept for hours, only to wake up just as fatigued, or even more. He could fall asleep in the middle of a sentence and he could barely keep his eyes open. _They were all signs_, Combeferre thought, _They were all signs and I missed them. _

Well, he didn't actually miss them…he had contacted the doctor and he had told him of his concerns, but said doctor had assured him everything was fine. _You're so stupid Etienne. You should have stayed, you should've known. _The poor medical student just couldn't forgive himself for the simple fact that he had gone home. He had left his best friend there. He had deserted him. He had left to get some sleep; to take a shower and now there was a chance he'd never speak to Enjolras again.

_Don't think like that. Julien's going to be fine._ But then another thought crossed Combeferre's mind. _What if he wanted me gone because he knew he wasn't okay? What if he didn't want me to be witness? _No…, that just could not be the truth. Enjolras would want him there if something would go wrong. Combeferre was sure of that. Wasn't he?

He felt a comforting hand squeeze the nape of his neck. It was Joly, Combeferre could tell without even having to look up. The other medical student had tried to support and reassure him ever since they found out Enjolras was in surgery again. Normally it would be Courfeyrac, but the always happy and bubbly law student was seated next to Jehan; both staring blankly ahead while undoubtedly reliving those last moments in Enjolras' room.

"Don't lose faith my friend", Joly said gently, "Don't jump to conclusions, because we don't really know anything yet. Enjolras doesn't give up easily and he's in good hands here…"

"Is he?" Combeferre asked silently, "I told doctor Richieu that Julien was too much out of it; that he was far more tired than he should be and he just waved it away like it was nothing. I _knew_ it, Joly. I knew something was wrong…why did I leave? I should've stayed."

"Don't do that to yourself 'Ferre", Joly answered sternly, "Don't blame yourself for going home and getting some rest, that's not fair. Not to you and not to Enjolras either. What do you think he would say of that?"

Combeferre smiled faintly at the thought. "I don't think it would surprise him much…wouldn't be the first time I blame myself for him being ill. Though I always blame him first, he's too stubborn for his own good."

"That he is", Joly laughed.

Combeferre sighed and stayed silent for a moment. Rationally he knew Joly was right, but he blamed himself for leaving nonetheless. And even if Joly noticed, he didn't comment on it at that minute, choosing instead to let Combeferre speak his mind without interruption.

"I just…I keep seeing him in that bed, with those machines going off…What if he was scared? Or in pain? He probably had no idea what has happening to him and Courfeyrac and Jehan were of course too shocked by what was going on to reassure him. I just…I _should_ have been there with him Joly...I should've been there to comfort him, to make sure he was alright, to make sure he felt safe; that's my job."

Joly smiled and shook his head slowly. "That's not your job 'Ferre…that's what you make it yourself. Enjolras would raise hell if he'd hear you say that, you know."

At that, Combeferre snorted loudly. Enjolras liked to be independent; capable of handling everything on his own and he didn't see himself as someone who needed to be comforted or who needed another person to look after him in any way. That had always been their main point of conflict. Combeferre deemed it necessary to mother-hen Enjolras and the fact that he was always trying to make sure that Enjolras had eaten or slept enough could drive the blonde successfully crazy. So yes, he probably would raise hell if he'd heard Combeferre say that taking care of him was his job.

But the medical student also knew that somewhere, Enjolras appreciated his nagging. It was at those moments when Enjolras finally admitted to be feeling under the weather, that he turned into something similar to a clingy child - which Combeferre did not mind at all - and Enjolras liked to prevent that from happening at all times. So actually, although the blonde would never admit it, both he and Combeferre knew that making sure Enjolras was okay wás indeed Combeferre's job to do.

"Maybe, but still Joly…" he whispered, while wiping a hand down his face, "No matter what you say, or Enjolras or any of the other Amis…I _should_ have been with him when this happened. I never wanted to leave in the first place, he told me to and I wanted to give him his way…And if…And if he's not…If things don't turn out like they should…I don't know…"

Joly didn't answer this time, but looked at his friend concernedly. Then he rubbed his friend's back a few times and stood. In the corner of his eye he saw Grantaire approaching and he thought it best to give the two guilt ridden friends some privacy. "I'm going to see if they know more", he said and when Combeferre was about to rise as well, Joly pushed him back down and nodded in Grantaire's direction. "You stay here, talk to him and if not for yourself, then for Enjolras: please stop blaming yourself 'Ferre…"

* * *

From the moment Joly broke the news to them, Grantaire had completely turned in on himself. He didn't speak and he didn't look at anyone; not even at Eponine, who hadn't left his side ever since she arrived at his apartment earlier that evening.

All he could think about were the short conversations he had had with Enjolras when Combeferre had finally allowed him access. He had been drowning in guilt for hours, but the first thing Enjolras had said was that it wasn't his fault. That he wasn't mad. Grantaire had still felt miserable after that, but it did help him believe that maybe everything would be alright. That maybe, in time, he could forgive himself for what happened.

Courfeyrac's phone call had changed all that.

He felt physically ill when Joly told them that Enjolras was back in surgery. _Another bleeding. Another surgery_…_And it's all because of me. _He cursed himself. Not only for his own behavior the night prior, but also for letting himself believe that Enjolras was going to be okay. He had believed the doctor; he had allowed himself to feel a little happy again. And this was his punishment.

But Enjolras couldn't die. He wasn't allowed to. He had promised he would be okay; he had promised he would be out of here in no time. And Enjolras never – ever – broke a promise. Especially not a promise to Combeferre. So he had to be okay…Right?

Grantaire desperately wanted to believe that, but he kept seeing Enjolras flying through the air over and over again. Every time he closed his eyes, he felt himself being pushed away and he saw his Apollo lying in a broken heap on the street. And that did not do much good for his faith.

He had no more tears left; he had shed more of them than most people would do in a lifetime. Tears of guilt and fear; anger and shame. His eyes drifted towards Combeferre and he took in the defeated expression on his friend's face. This was killing him – just as it was killing Grantaire – and suddenly the drunkard felt like he needed to be with the medical student. He wanted to be there for Combeferre; and he wanted Combeferre to be there for him. So that together, they could maybe be there for Enjolras.

He wasn't sure if Combeferre wanted him there, but that didn't stop him. He ignored Eponine's questions as he rose and silently walked over to the emotional form that was Combeferre. He tried to smile at Joly, who just stood from his seat, and took his place next to the bespectacled student.

They didn't say anything to each other for a while. Combeferre had looked up and offered Grantaire a tight smile – which Grantaire returned – before he resumed dwelling on his self-blaming thoughts. The cynic was content enough to just sit there next to him. The fact that he wasn't immediately send away already meant a lot to him. And the silence between them didn't feel forced or awkward; though it didn't feel quite comfortable either.

"Is Joly going to ask if they know more again?" Grantaire asked timidly; not really sure if he should've broken the silence, but longing for some sort of contact with Combeferre. The medical student looked up slowly and eyed Grantaire warily for a moment. Then he nodded and sat up a little straighter. "How was he with you when he woke up, Taire?"

The question took Grantaire off guard a little and he frowned, before thinking back to that moment and he shrugged his shoulders. "He was tired, I guess…He didn't say much the first time…Just that he…uh…that he wasn't mad and that he didn't…that he didn't blame me for what happened…and that he promised he would be okay, but he was practically asleep again by then."

He noticed how Combeferre dejectedly shook his head and closed his eyes. "The second time was even shorter…he was only awake long enough to demand me to go home…" At that statement, Grantaire could've sworn he saw a faint smile tugging at the corners of Combeferre's lips, although his expression remained broken-hearted.

"Combeferre?" Grantaire asked tentatively after another moment of silence. He wasn't sure if it was the right thing to ask and he really feared the answer, but it was just something that he had to know. "If Enjolras wakes up, please, please let me see him? Don't deny me access again, please Combeferre? I don't know if I could handle that again."

"When."

Grantaire frowned at that. "What? What do you mean when?"

Combeferre sighed and looked at him with tears in his eyes. "You said 'if' Enjolras wakes up…"

Grantaire felt his heart sink and his stomach turn. Did he really say that? "I'm sorry…I meant when, of course I meant 'when' 'Ferre, you know that right?" He turned pleading, wide eyes to the medical student and let out a relieved sigh when Combeferre nodded slightly. Before either of them could say anything more however, Joly came rushing back to them. Combeferre and Grantaire rose out of their chairs immediately and held their breaths, as did the rest of the Amis as soon as they saw Joly approach them. He was pale and shaking slightly.

Joly took a deep breath before cutting straight to the point, "He's still in surgery, but they found a leaky blood vessel near his stomach and they're trying to close it off appropriately right now. He has already lost a great amount of blood though and the nurses told me he will be in definite need of transfusion as soon as he's out of surgery," He hesitated and looked at Combeferre apologetically before adding: "_If_ he makes it out of surgery…"

TBC.

_(Yeah, I know, another cliffy, but I promise you this will be the last one….but will it be good or bad news, which would you rather see? We can go two ways from here! I really hope you've enjoyed this chapter, if you did, please let me know and review? They make me update faster! Till next time)_


	14. Chapter 14

_(Hi all you lovely readers! Thank you all so much for your support on this story. It means the world to me :) and I always appreciate your opinion, and often take them to heart as well, so thanks again! Also, a huge thanks once again goes to **frustratedstudent**, who helped me with the medical stuff in this chapter! Hope you'll like it!)_

_A leaky blood vessel…Lost a great amount of blood…Will be in definite need of transfusion as soon as he's out of surgery...if he makes it out of surgery...if...if...if..._

Combeferre's head was spinning. Why did everything keep getting worse? What had they done to deserve this? What had _Enjolras_ done to deserve this? The blonde was a good young man; always willing to help those in need; a good student; a great friend; a wonderful person. It wasn't fair that he got hit by that car; it wasn't fair that he had to go through two surgery's and it wasn't fair that his chance of survival kept getting smaller.

The medical student had difficulty to listen to Joly. He got stuck at that one confession. _If he makes it out of surgery...if...if...if. _Combeferre realised he started to really hate that word. Grantaire had already used it and now Joly did as well and Combeferre just wanted nothing more than to block the whole world out, go to Enjolras and force the blonde to prove everyone wrong. To turn that _if _into _when_, because this was Julien and _if_ just wouldn't do. Not now, not ever.

He glanced around the group of friends who all seemed just as shocked and concerned as he was. However they were still listening to Joly intently and Combeferre only snapped out of his ponderings when Grantaire started yelling.

"I'll do it! Joly, I want to do it, please let me do it. It's my fault he is in here in the first place, please let me be the one to help him? Please?" Grantaire was close to tears and he was clutching Joly's shirt as he pleaded to him.

Combeferre frowned confused. _What did I miss?_ He looked up at Joly with a quizzical look and the other medical student seemed to understand at once that Combeferre had been in too much of a shock to hear the rest of his words. He gave Grantaire a sympathetic look and turned towards Combeferre to repeat what he had just said.

"They need to organize that transfusion as soon as possible, because if" – Again that word and Combeferre shuddered – "if he gets out of surgery, he needs donation immediately. The nurses just told me they're having some difficulty with the inventory of the bloodbank, the amount of blood Julien needs and his rare blood type, you know, and with all the trouble he has already gone through, they want to keep risks as minimal as possible. So they asked me if one of our friends is willing and able to donate..."

Again, he was interrupted by Grantaire. "Joly, I'll do it, tell them I'll do it! They can do their procedure right away, please?"

"You can't", Combeferre said quietly and Joly looked at Grantaire somewhat sympathetically. " R, you're not a registered donor, so they won't take the risk and with your history of alcohol use...You can't donate R, I'm sorry."

Grantaire looked as if someone had hit him in the face. Even at this, he failed. Even his blood wasn't good enough for his Apollo. He looked down dejectedly and let Joly continue without interrupting any more.

"Enjolras is AB Negative and as such can receive the same blood type as well as A Negative, B Negative or O Negative. They don't have enough of the first two on hand. They could use O Negative, but, like I said, in Enjolras' case, they want to take the smallest amount of risks, so they'd like to avoid that if possible..." Joly paused a minute and swallowed nervously. He really hoped one of his friends would be able to help.

"I told the nurses that most of us – with the exception of Grantaire and Bahorel – have a donor card and so our blood is pre-screened on disease histories and can be used for donation. It would be most helpful if one of us is willing and able to donate. And I have no doubt that we are all willing..., but I don't know if any of us is able to...I know I'm not, neither are you 'Ferre and Bossuet..," Joly looked around the group of friends expectantly.

Combeferre frowned sadly. He looked at Grantaire and could really imagine the drunkards pain at not being able to help Enjolras this time. It felt awful and not at all like Combeferre was used to. He was always the one to help Julien; always the one the blonde could count on. But now, he seemed to keep failing his best friend at the most crucial times. Sighing sadly, he counted the friends whose blood type he knew. _Not me, not Grantaire, not Bahorel, not Joly, not Bossuet._ He knew Courfeyrac and Marius were no suitable donors either, so that left Jehan and Feuilly.

The blonde poet shook his head; tears shining in his eyes and he reached for Courfeyrac's hand. "I'm not a match, Joly...", he whispered softly and looked guiltily at the floor, as if it was actually something he could be blamed for. Courfeyrac squeezed his hand and looked Jehan in the eyes. "Don't apologize Jean, there's no right or wrong here.."

"Courf is right, Jean, don't feel guilty for this...That goes for you and Grantaire as well 'Ferre", Joly said sternly as he watched the dark haired and sandy haired men carefully. "If no one is a suitable match, they'll just go with O Negative and that...that will probably be fine as well", he added, although there was definitely more doubt in his voice this time.

* * *

Feuilly had stayed silent while the rest of the Amis regrettably told Joly they were no match. He knew he was...he had the exact same type as Enjolras and he had a donor card, so therefore he would make a perfect match. But somewhere he had hoped one of the others would have made a suitable donor, because Feuilly had a significant fear of blood. It was blood, and therefore, it should stay inside the body. The international student could get easily sick by the sight of it and it wouldn't be the first time he'd passed out because of it.

He had been reluctant at first to donate blood, but when Combeferre and Joly had asked it of all of their friends a few years ago, everyone went, except Grantaire and Bahorel, because they lived a too unhealthy lifestyle anyway. Feuilly donated as well, because he wanted to help people, but it had been very hard on him and he hadn't done it often after that first time.

But there was no dilemma here. Feuilly did not even really have to think about it. He was a perfect match and Enjolras needed him. And if Enjolras needed him, then of course Feuilly would help. He nervously cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "I am the same blood type as Enjolras", he said, and he tried to keep his voice calm and steady, but he felt very anxious.

A unified, relieved sigh escaped the group of friends, and all of them turned grateful eyes to Feuilly. Joly smiled at him sympathetically. He knew about Feuilly's fear for blood and he already greatly respected his friend for donating blood every six months instead of the usual three or four. He grabbed the Polish student gently by the shoulder and searched his face to know Feuilly was absolutely sure about this; it would be a large amount of blood. When the other man nodded determinedly, Joly's smile grew and he turned on his heels. "I'll tell them we've got a match", he called over his shoulder, as he hurried back towards the nurses' station.

* * *

No more than ten minutes later, Feuilly found himself in a little room together with Combeferre, who had wanted to be there with him. The medical student just couldn't sit in the waiting room any longer; he needed something to do; something useful. And since Feuilly was reluctant to go with the nurses alone, Combeferre had offered to join him. Hopefully it could take his mind of things.

"You'll have to rest a little longer in this room than usual after they've collected the blood", Combeferre said kindly, "It's because they're going to have to take a little more than the usual 500ml. Not much more, but a little...don't worry about it though, you're in good hands."

Feuilly smiled nervously and looked up at the nurse who was just about to hook him up. She smiled back at the two men and nodded in agreement. "He's right, you know. You are in good hands and we'll take good care of you. We'll be done before you know it and we'll make sure you're comfortable afterwards.

"I don't really care", Feuilly whispered softly as he looked away from the nurses' actions, "I just want to help Enjolras."

Combeferre felt intensely grateful and he squeezed Feuilly's hand tightly. "You are helping", he mumbled quietly and he had to swallow a few times to keep control of his voice, "Thank you so much for this Feuilly...I know this is hard for you...You're an amazing friend, this is really great."

Feuilly raised his eyebrows and squeezed back. "It never was something I had to think about 'Ferre...no matter how hard or uncomfortable this is for me" – he swallowed thickly when his eyes travelled to the dark blood, his blood, that was flowing through the small tube – "I'd donate all my blood if I could help Enjolras with it. Just like anyone of us would."

"I never doubted that", the medical student whispered proudly. "Everyone of our friends keeps amazing me at times. We've been through so much together already, you know, good and bad things, and we keep coming out of it stronger than before. I'd never really thought it possible, but I know I've found friends for life in each one of you."

Feuilly nodded happily. "Me too, you all are the family I've never had and I wouldn't know what to do if I'd lose any one of you..", he blinked rapidly a few times when he felt tears welling in his eyes, "We can't lose Enjolras, 'Ferre...It would never be the same without him there...I mean, we all have our task you know, each has his own role and each one of us is vital to our group...If we lose one, especially Enjolras, I can't even begin to think how we all would cope..."

Feuilly only then looked at Combeferre and he was shocked to see the tears leaking out of his friend's eyes. "I'm sorry, 'Ferre, I didn't mean to upset you...I mean, I was just rambling, Enjolras is the strongest one of us all, he'll be okay, I firmly believe that. He'll fight. If not for himself, then for you and the rest of us. He couldn't bear to leave us all behind you know, we'd make a mess of things..", he tried to smile, but Combeferre only looked more depressed.

"We wouldn't make a mess of things", Combeferre said softly after a moment of silence. He looked up at Feuilly, who started to look a little pale, and offered the Polish student a smile. "He's indoctrinated everyone of us with his passion, and if, by some unacceptable event, we wouldn't be able to do it _with_ Julien, then we would make sure to do it _for_ him."

Feuilly smiled back and nodded. "That's true", he mumbled quietly, "that's definitely true."

* * *

The two of them kept talking quietly, while the nurse did her thing. After thirty minutes or so, Feuilly was done and the nurse took him off the machine. She gave him something to drink and a snack and then hurried out of the room, leaving the two boys behind.

"You don't have to stay 'Ferre, I know you're aching to know if there is more news on Enjolras. I am too, but I guess I'm stuck here for a little while", Feuilly said kindly.

Combeferre straightened and looked over his shoulder to the door. "Joly told me he'd come and get me as soon as they know more...and I asked the nurse to keep me posted as well, so we'll be both fine here."

"Thanks 'Ferre", Feuilly said tiredly. Donating blood always left him a little dizzy and weak, but now that he had given some more than usual, he felt quite tired as well. He wasn't even really aware that he was dozing off on Combeferre's soothing voice, until he suddenly startled awake to a shouting Joly, who came bursting through the doors wide-eyed and slightly panting.

"He's out of surgery! 'Ferre, Feuilly, he's out of surgery! They're about to move him to recovery, and the doctor will come speak to us as soon as possible."

TBC.

_(Yay, another chapter done! I really hope you liked this one :) I wanted some more Feuilly in here and I thank Sweenette for reminding me of this brilliant character. Well, Enjy is out of surgery, but how will he be doing? Please let me know what you think of this chapter in a review? Thanks and till next time!)_


	15. Chapter 15

_(Hi guys! Thank you all again so much for all the great response you've given me. It really means a lot to me and it helps me to keep writing! Here's another chapter, hope you'll like it. Enjoy!)_

An hour after Joly had delivered the news to Combeferre and Feuilly, the bespectacled student found himself seated in the small recovery room next to Enjolras. The blond had been drifting in and out of consciousness for almost two hours now, still fighting off the remnants of anaesthesia. Doctor Richieu had, albeit reluctantly, allowed one of the Amis to keep Enjolras company; to coax him back to full awareness and to help him through the first hit of confusion, shock and unavoidable pain. Another panic attack would be the last thing Enjolras needed right now, so the doctor figured it was probably best if the blond woke up with a familiar face next to him.

And of course, no one argued against the fact that Combeferre was going to be that person. Not even Grantaire, who had only given Combeferre a hug and pressed a small note in his hand asking him to hand it over to Enjolras as soon as he was feeling up to it. "Don't you want to give it to him yourself once he's out of recovery?", Combeferre had asked, but Grantaire had shook his head claiming he would never have the nerve to do it then.

Enjolras had woken up twice now, only to blink up at Combeferre a few times before falling back into oblivion again. The medical student was patient though, ready to give his roommate all the time he needed. He was already more than content to just sit here next to the blond and watch him breathe. He kept a close eye on Enjolras' vitals – even though a nurse came in to do just that every half hour or so – and had a loose hand curled around his best friend's wrist, just so he could feel his pulse as well.

_"I'm sorry you have been sitting here for so long without any proper information about what was going on. There was just no time to give a detailed analyses of your friend's condition; we had to rush him to the OR immediately since there was an extreme internal bleeding. But – as the nurses have told you recently – the cause of his dropping rates was a leaky blood vessel which we had to locate first and close appropriately as soon as possible. It has been touch and go for a while, but he pulled through and we're moving him to Recovery as we speak. As you have been told, he is in need of a blood transfusion, which luckily one of you have donated for, and he'll be in pain for quite some time. But, all things considered, he is doing fairly well. I know I've said it before, but Enjolras is a true fighter. He keeps surprising me and I've got to say I'm glad for that."_

Combeferre thought back to the moment that Doctor Richieu finally came to speak to them. He had been angry, there was no denying it. He had told the doctor about Enjolras' extreme exhaustion and they hadn't paid any attention to it. Richieu had apologized, but had also stood his ground. "It was too early to jump to any conclusions at that time and his exhaustion could have been caused by many things. That being said, we could have paid more attention to your observations." Combeferre had grumbled something at that, not really ready to let it go yet, but he had dropped the issue. All that really mattered to him was Enjolras and the fact that he was still hanging on.

* * *

Combeferre carefully brushed a few curls out of Enjolras' eyes and smiled up at him. When injured, ill or even just asleep, his friend looked so young and innocent. So much different from the fiery and passionate student he usually was. It was at moments like these – moments in which Enjolras willingly or unwillingly let his guard down – that Combeferre realized how protective he was of his friend. He let his eyes glide from the various IV-lines attached to Enjolras' arm to the bag of blood hanging from the stand and he felt an intense feeling of gratitude towards Feuilly flow through him.

"You know this is actually the first time since ten years you've been in a hospital longer than two days, Julien", he said softly as he remembered an equally pale looking, but younger Enjolras in a hospital bed. "You were nearly eleven years of age and you had to get your tonsils out. Your father was on a business trip and he didn't want to come back for something as routine as that."

Combeferre felt a strange flash of anger rip through him as he thought back to the phone call his parents had made to Enjolras' father. Combeferre and Enjolras had already been best friends back then and Enjolras stayed with Combeferre and his parents while his father was away because his mother wasn't in any state to take care of him. When Enjolras had fallen ill and kept complaining about a sore throat, Combeferre's mother had decided to take him to a doctor who diagnosed him with tonsillitis. They had called Enjolras' father immediately, but the only thing he had told his son on the phone was to not be silly and take it like a man. No comforting words whatsoever. It still enraged Combeferre ten years later.

"Didn't turn out to be so routine in the end, now did it Julien? You never do things by half; got yourself a serious case of pneumonia on top of it and you had to stay in the hospital for nearly a week. And even as a child you didn't allow yourself any rest. You were confined to the bed for at least a day or six, but the moment I left for school and my parents weren't paying attention, you were parading around the house trying to prove you were completely fine and in no need of bed rest", Combeferre chuckled softly, "Well, that is until you passed out somewhere in the kitchen, nearly giving my mother a heart attack in the process when she found you."

"Your father showed up three weeks later only to give you a quick hug and announce he had to go away again the next day for another conference", Combeferre said bitterly as he readjusted the sheets covering his friend's body, "I don't think my parents ever forgave him...neither have I, come to think of it. I mean , I was only fourteen years old myself, but I still remember that look on your face every time you asked me if your father had called or if he was already on his way home and I had to be the one to disappoint you time and again. I hated that, I really did..."

He closed his hand more tightly around Enjolras' and smiled sadly at him. "But something good came out of it, I think...Your father stayed away for longer amounts of time and each time he left, he dropped you off at our house – not that we minded, on the contrary, we were glad to have you. I think my mother was actually genuinely happy when your father left again, so she could provide you with the comfort and care you were so obviously lacking from him. And I was happy as well, Julien, cause it meant that I had a little brother to care for once again...When you turned eleven that summer – again without your father there – I swore to myself I would always be the one for you to come to when you felt sad, scared, happy or angry."

"I still remember the look on your father's face when you told him you didn't want to come home with him anymore...that we were your family now...", he couldn't help but smile smugly at that, "I don't think I ever felt that victorious, you know..."

"I don't think he ever felt such defeat...", he heard a slurred voice whisper as a smaller hand curled around his own. His head snapped up so fast, his neck muscles protested angrily, but he didn't care. Enjolras was awake and seemed more coherent this time, although his eyes were shining with pain and fatigue.

"Hey", Combeferre said happily as he rested his hand on the side of Enjolras' face.

"Hi", Enjolras whispered and he winced visibly as he became more aware of the pain he was in.

"Good to have you finally awake again...you've been in and out of consciousness for almost two hours now, you know", Combeferre said, smiling comfortingly, "How are you feeling?"

Enjolras swallowed thickly and closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again they were filled with tears, but a small smile played around the corners of his lips. "I've been better", he mumbled as he quickly wiped the first tear that fell away. He didn't even know why he was crying in the first place. He was in pain, yes, but he never cried because of a little pain and this was all very confusing. "I...I ah...I don't understand why I'm here? I was in another room before...what happened?"

Combeferre smiled reassuringly at Enjolras and carded his fingers through the now slightly greasy curly locks. "you had another bleeding", he said softly and he searched Enjolras' eyes for any signs of panic or anxiety, "A leaky blood vessel to be exact...you had to go through another surgery and you've been in Recovery now for two hours."

Enjolras frowned confusedly and opened his mouth to respond, but was silenced when a wave of pain washed over him and he squeezed his eyes shut. Combeferre noticed and his eyes travelled to the monitors next to Enjolras' bed to see if his vitals were still okay. Then he continued in a calm voice: "You've lost a lot of blood and you're actually even in need of transfusion...Feuilly donated you know.." He wondered if he should mention Grantaire's note already, but decided against it. Enjolras was in no state to be dealing with that at this point.

"Really?", Enjolras breathed, opening his eyes again.

"Yes...we all wanted to donate of course...Grantaire was practically ready to plunge the needle in himself", he frowned at the memory, "but Feuilly was the only one who matched your blood type."

Enjolras tried to smile, but it turned into a painful grimace and he let out a small whimper. Combeferre squeezed his hand again and wondered if he should call the doctor in and ask him something for the pain. Doctor Richieu had warned Combeferre earlier; had told him to be prepared and had told him that Enjolras was already on the highest dose of painkillers. But it killed Combeferre to see his best friend like this.

Suddenly Enjolras' face crumpled and he pressed his lips together in a tight line; a desperate attempt to keep from crying. But he failed and more tears slipped from his eyes when he opened them. He turned pleading eyes to Combeferre. "It really hurts", he whispered and gritted his teeth when the pain flaired up again. "'Ferre...it really hurts."

Combeferre thumbed the tears away and pressed a light kiss against Enjolras' forehead. "I know it hurts Julien...I know and I'm sorry but I can't do anything about it. You're already on painkillers", he mumbled regrettably. But when Enjolras closed his eyes in defeat, he leaned over and pressed the call button. "I'll ask the doctor, but I don't think they can do more, mon ami..."

* * *

And, as he predicted, Richieu refused to heighten the dose Enjolras was already on. He checked his patient's vitals and the abdominal wound and decided to keep him in Recovery for a little longer. "You'd best try and get some more rest, the pain will start to get more manageable in time."

When the doctor left again, Enjolras let out another small moan and looked at Combeferre. "How can I rest when everything hurts? I'll never fall asleep like this 'Ferre..." The look of pure innocence and insecurity almost made the medical student smile. He was used to this. Enjolras would always look up to him for guidance and support, even more so when ill or injured and especially when high on painkillers.

He gently played with the golden curls at the nape of Enjolras' neck and intertwined their fingers. "Yes you will, Julien, your body needs rest, your mind only has to allow to give it that. Just close your eyes and try to focus on your breathing. Deep breaths in, and slowly out again..."

"But what if something goes wrong again?", he whispered, not even aware he was practically asleep again.

"I'll be here all the time; I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Just sleep Julien, you're safe", he said quietly. And there was indeed no way he was leaving Enjolras' bedside again. Not until his roommate was ready to go home with him. He wouldn't make the same mistake. He kept speaking softly to his friend until his breathing evened out. And then a little while longer.

TBC.

_(So, first signs of recovery? I know you all hope for it, don't you? I hope you've enjoyed this chapter; next will have more of the Amis in it. I wanted a chapter solemnly based on Enjolras and Combeferre this time. Please let me know what you think and review? Thanks!)_


	16. Chapter 16

_(Hi lovely readers! Thanks again for all the reviews and feedback I've gotten from you. You are all awesome. Means a lot to me :) So here's the next chapter. I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with it, but we'll see. Hope you like it, enjoy!)_

Next time Enjolras woke up, he was yet again in an unfamiliar room. A bigger one this time, with more chairs around him and less in-and-out-running hospital staff. He blinked a few times and then closed his eyes again in some desperate attempt to escape the pain that was slowly but surely rising to the surface as well. He didn't feel good and he found the mix of pain and grogginess due to medication suddenly very annoying.

"Morning sunshine", a voice to his left piped up happily.

Enjolras raised his brows and opened his eyes again, turning his head. There, right next to him, sat a grinning Courfeyrac and even though he tried his best to look like his joyous, bubbly self, Enjolras noticed the dark circles under his eyes and the not at all hidden worry edged across his face.

"Hi", he mumbled sleepily, "Where's Combeferre?" He didn't mean anything by it, he just genuinely wondered where Combeferre was, since the medical student had hardly left his side at all during his stay in the hospital. And – if he was honest with himself – he just felt better when Combeferre was in sight.

Courfeyrac widened his eyes almost comically and then pressed his hands over his heart, while faking to be deeply hurt by his friend's words. "I am not good enough for you? Way to rip my heart out Enjy. Here I sit, all happy and exciting to see you and the first thing you say is 'Where's Combeferre?' I am hurt, you hear me? Hurt!"

A ghost of a smile tugged at Enjolras' lips and he rolled his eyes. "Sorry", he whispered, voice weaker than he would've wanted it, "Glad you're here Courf...And don't call me Enjy...Never call me Enjy." He closed his eyes again and let out a shaky breath.

"Well, if you're well enough to scold at me for calling you Enjy, you must be on the mend", Courfeyrac said gently as he played with a few blond curls, "And Combeferre will be here in a minute, he just went to speak with your doctor. They're thinking about getting you on a patient-controlled alien or whatever, I'm not sure what it's called..."

"Patient-controlled analgesia actually", a voice from the door spoke up and both curly-haired boys looked up to see a smiling Combeferre stand in the doorway. He walked towards them and took the seat on Enjolras' right. "It will allow you to administer your own pain relief...to a certain extent. The doctor will probably hook you up later today or maybe tomorrow."

Courfeyrac nodded, but Enjolras looked serious and he let out a frustrated sigh. "How much longer do I have to stay here? Can't I rest up at home?"

This earned him a snort from his left and Combeferre gave him a stern look over his spectacles. "I'm going to pretend you did not ask me that. Now how are you feeling? How's the pain?"

"Manageable", Enjolras breathed, but he had to swallow half of the word and gritted his teeth when the pain suddenly flared up. He ignored the worried glances of both Combeferre and Courfeyrac and asked quickly. "How long have I been asleep since the last time I woke?"

"Quite some hours", Combeferre said and he softly squeezed Enjolras' hand when another wave of pain came over his best friend. "You've actually slept through another examination by the doctor as well as the whole process of moving you from recovery to another room. It's around 07.30 in the morning now and when you woke earlier, it was around 02.00."

Enjolras opened his mouth to speak, but instead started coughing harshly. His face contorted in pain and he tried to wrap his uninjured arm around his sensitive stomach, but Combeferre tightened his grip on Enjolras' hand to prevent him from doing so. "Easy", he soothed, "You're alright."

Enjolras squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to get the coughing under control. He felt truly and utterly miserable and he hated feeling that way. He hated being ill; he hated to be injured and he definitely hated to be in so much pain that he needed painkillers. When the coughing finally seemed to subside, he dared to open his eyes again, only to be met by two concerned faces.

"M fine", he mumbled frustrated and he tried to sit up a little straighter. Combeferre however pressed a firm hand against his chest to keep him still and nodded at Courfeyrac. The brown-haired student grinned and winked at Enjolras' annoyed expression. "Got a whole panel right here to put you in more comfortable positions, Enj. No need to move and risk ripping your sutures, mon ami."

Enjolras sighed, but stopped struggling and laid back down while Courfeyrac pushed the button for the head of the bed to rise. Combeferre shook up his pillow and handed him a small cup of water. With a straw. Enjolras eyed it warily. _He didn't need a straw...he wasn't a child_. Combeferre seemed to notice Enjolras' reluctance, but just guided his hand to the cup and said: "It'll be easier and will take less effort. It will be better for now, trust me Julien, your body is weaker than you want to believe it is. Even something as simple as lifting a cup can be exhausting for you."

Combeferre rolled his eyes in frustration when his friend tried to raise the cup nonetheless and was only just in time to steady Enjolras' shaking hands before the water was spilled all over him. The medical student glared at Enjolras, but his face softened when he saw the defeated expression. He sighed and carefully wrapped Enjolras' hand around the cup as well as his own. "Don't be stubborn", he muttered, "We'll do it together. It's just us, Julien, no need to be embarrassed."

Courfeyrac nodded in agreement. "Yeah dude, the two of you have been present at way more embarrassing things of my own you know. Remember when I wasn't feeling well a few months ago, but I told you I did and then when I tried to laugh it off, I threw up all over myself and then again...and again...", he trailed off and cleared his throat. "Remember?"

Both Combeferre and Enjolras looked at him with their eyebrows raised. Enjolras seemed to have gone a little more pale at remembering the story in his current, slightly vulnerable state. "Yes, Courfeyrac, we remember. I don't think any of us is going to forget that any time soon...It was disgusting", Combeferre said while shaking his head and focussed his attention back on Enjolras. Inside however, he was grateful. Courfeyrac always knew the right thing to say in situations like this.

Courfeyrac laughed heartily and wiped a hand over his face. "Yeah, I guess it was kind of disgusting. But it was funny as well, you should have seen your faces!" He kept on sniggering for a while and then suddenly leaped up. "Oh, Enjolras, I almost forgot!", he squealed happily, "You haven't seen it yet, because, well, you suddenly decided to bust a vessel and then you needed surgery and then you were in recovery and all that, but..."

Enjolras scowled at Courfeyrac, but turned quizzical eyes to Combeferre when he saw the law student pull something out of his bag. When Courfeyrac turned to them again, he was holding 'whatever he just grabbed' behind his back and with a smile stretching from ear to ear he pressed a large card in Enjolras' hand. "We made you a get-well-soon card!" he exclaimed, practically beaming of pride and expectation.

Enjolras let his eyes glide over the card and was momentarily struck speechless. An honest and big smile spread across his face as he studied each of the photos of his friends and he trailed a finger over the small Eiffel Towers at the edges. Combeferre and Courfeyrac shared a content look before focussing their attention back on the blond between them. "I brought it to your room earlier just after Grantaire left, but you were too out of it to notice, so I took it back and waited to give it until you were feeling more like yourself", Courfeyrac said quietly.

Enjolras didn't look away from the card, but both Combeferre and Courfeyrac heared him chuckle softly. "It's brilliant", he said happily and when he did look up, his face was lit up in excitement.

"Well open it", Courfeyrac muttered impatiently, "We all wrote in it as well you know!"

Enjolras snorted and did as he was told. The inside of the card was written to its fullest. There were literally no blank parts left. Enjolras paid every little text as much attention; grinning at some, snorting at others and just smiling genuinely at the rest. "It's wonderful", he whispered and his voice cracked a little, "Thank you...this really means a lot." Then his eyes fell on the part Grantaire wrote and he frowned. "Well, this one is definitely cheerful", he mumbled sarcastically and he looked up confused at his two friends.

Courfeyrac sighed sadly. "Yeah, Grantaire wasn't feeling all that well at that time", he said, ignoring Combeferre's slightly annoyed shake of the head. "He felt pretty guilty actually...you know, over what happened."

"Yeah, but why?", Enjolras asked quietly. "I told him I wasn't mad...I told him I didn't blame him." He unconsciously squeezed Combeferre's hand tightly when another wave of pain suddenly flared up again.

"You did, but that was after we made the card, you see...", Courfeyrac soothed.

Combeferre took the card from Enjolras and felt in his pocket for the note Grantaire had given him earlier. He wasn't really sure how he felt towards the drunkard at this moment. He knew he had told Grantaire that he wasn't mad anymore; that he might have already forgiven him, but ever since Enjolras went in for the second surgery and every time his friend nearly cried because of the pain he was in, Combeferre suddenly felt angry again. And Enjolras' confused and slightly hurt look when he read Grantaire's message on the card, did not do much to sooth his feelings towards the cynic.

"Just before I was allowed to visit you in Recovery, Grantaire gave me this", Combeferre said quietly and he handed over the small piece of paper. "He asked me to give it to you as soon as you were feeling well enough to read it." The medical student didn't know what was on the paper - he didn't read it - but he hoped it wasn't something that was going to upset Enjolras. His friend had been through enough and deserved a break.

Enjolras frowned and silently took the note from Combeferre. "What does it say?", he asked, feeling slightly nervous although he had no idea why.

"I don't know. I haven't opened it, it's meant for you, so..."

Enjolras nodded and swallowed a few times before opening the little letter. His eyes scanned the small piece of paper. The text was short and obviously written in a hurry. His frown only deepened as he read.

_Enjolras,_

_If Combeferre has given you this note, then it must mean you are feeling better. You have no idea how happy that makes me._  
_I know you said you weren't angry with me for what happened, but I feel like you should be. I am deeply ashamed by what has happened and I am afraid I will hurt you again...even though it will never be intended._  
_Therefore I have decided to leave. I know it will be better for everyone in the end, especially for you. I will no longer annoy you or scoff at you, because you deserve better. And I will never endanger you again. You won't have to listen to my drunken ramblings again and you can continue your speeches without any drunken disturbances. I am sorry for everything._

_Please get well soon,_

_R._

Enjolras read the letter over and over again. He didn't understand. Grantaire was leaving? Why was he leaving? What was going on? He suddenly felt very sick and he crumpled the little note in his fist. _Did I do something wrong?_

"Enjolras? Are you okay? Enjolras?" Combeferre watched his friend worriedly. He had noticed how Enjolras' breathing became more labored; how he his hands were trembling ever so slightly and how utterly confused and dumbstruck he suddenly looked. Something was wrong and it must have something to do with Grantaire. And Combeferre didn't like it.

"Grantaire says he's leaving", Enjolras whispered and he blinked rapidly a few times, "I don't understand...why would he leave? I told him everything was okay...Did I say something else to him in a drugged state? Did I do something wrong? I don't understand...'Ferre?" And he really didn't. He also didn't understand why this whole thing was taking such a big toll on his emotions...Why was this upsetting him so much? None of it made any sense to him.

"He's leaving?" Courfeyrac exclaimed indignantly. "What do you mean he's leaving? Why would he go?"

Combeferre took the letter from Enjolras and gritted his teeth as he read it. _Damnit Grantaire_, he thought and his frustration towards the drunkard grew in tenfold. _Why doesn't he ever think things through? Didn't he understand what the effect of this could be on Enjolras? On his recovery? Did he not know that their friend was in a fragile state right now? Damnit Grantaire._

"I'll be right back", Combeferre announced and he rose from his chair, ignoring the confused looks of Enjolras and Courfeyrac. As soon as he was outside, he dug out his phone and dialed Grantaire's number. The drunkard picked up at the second ring.

"Combeferre? What's wrong? Is everything alright with Enjolras?"

Combeferre clenched his fist. "You better get here right this second and fix the mess you just created, Grantaire."

TBC.

_(Ah yeah, poor Grantaire, he only means well and just feels so lost and guilty. But poor Enjolras too, because he just doesn't understand what is going on. But at least he's on the mend, right? Hope you liked this chapter, please let me know and review? Thanks!)_


	17. Chapter 17

_(Hi guys! Thanks for all the feedback I've gotten on the last chapter. Some of you weren't really happy with the way Combeferre's treating Grantaire, but maybe this chapter will change your opinion of our loyal medical student. He's just worried. Hope you like this one! Enjoy)_

* * *

Grantaire sat motionless on his couch; half empty vodka bottle in hand. His suitcase lay forgotten on his bed in the other room. It had been lying there ever since Courfeyrac had called and told him about the setback.

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to leave, but then again, he really didn't. He blinked slowly and took another swig. _Aren't I the best friend in the world_, he thought bitterly, _my drinking leads to my friend nearly dying in the hospital...and here I am, drinking again._ He let out a harsh laugh at the ridiculousness of it all.

He had tried to stop. He had sworn it to himself the minute the ambulance came to pick them up, but all the guilt and the fear and the disappointed looks from the Amis...it was all just too much. And then Enjolras dared to tell him all is good. That he doesn't blame him; that they are okay...How could he? Grantaire did not understand.

And then the setback happened... and it didn't matter anymore that Enjolras had pulled through again. It didn't change his decision. He had to go. He couldn't keep doing this. It was just better if he left. But then why was it so hard?

Another swig and his head was spinning. He had been fighting so hard, but the withdrawal had been too much. Especially on top of all the anxiety, guilt and fear he felt.

Another swig and he felt disgusted. He had to go. It was only fair to everyone. To Enjolras. It's not like they'd ever been real close friends... _He'll probably be glad that I left. Good riddance...well, he's right anyway. _

He had made up his mind and threw away the now empty bottle. Slowly he walked over to the bedroom; tripping over his own feet at least three times. When he finally got there and opened his wardrobe, his phone rang.

After the events of the last couple of days, Grantaire immediately panicked when he heard his phone ring so early in the morning. _This can't be happening. Not again..._He ran back to the living room and grabbed the device of the table. His heart was hammering in his chest when he saw who the caller was.

"Combeferre? What's wrong? Is everything alright with Enjolras?" The words tumbled from his mouth and they even sounded slurred to Grantaire himself.

He hadn't expected the person on the other line of the phone to sound so controlled and yet so shaky. As if there was a great anger that Combeferre was trying to suppress. "You better get here right this second and fix the mess you just created, Grantaire."

It took a while for the words to sink in, but when they did, Grantaire suddenly felt angry himself. What had he done now? He wasn't in the mood for any of Combeferre's lectures. He had things to do; stuff to pack. And Combeferre's angry interference did not fit in his agenda.

"Wha the hell did I do now, Ferre?" He muttered sluggishly, not even trying to keep his voice steady and under control.

There was silence for a moment and then Combeferre spoke again. The anger now replaced by outrage and disbelief. "Are you drunk?"

Grantaire felt miserable and disgusted, but all he could do was scoff. "What? Does that surprise you?"

He heard a low chuckle on the other side and pressed his hand against his throbbing head. "Yeah, you know...it shouldn't...but it does, Grantaire", Combeferre said and he sounded so disappointed. "How can you even think about getting drunk after everything that has happened... You know what, never mind, that is not why I called you."

"Why then if not to yell at me?" Grantaire purred sweetly, but inside his stomach was turning. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Your note", was all Combeferre said.

Grantaire raised his eyebrows. He definitely had not expected Combeferre to get upset about that. The medical student clearly wasn't happy with him, despite their earlier conversation. He would've thought Combeferre was happy to see him go.

"What about it? I assume you gave it to Enjolras or did you read it yourself?" He asked darkly.

"I gave it to Julien, yes, just a minute ago actually", Combeferre said, voice serious now. "Why did you want me to give him that? Why are you leaving, Grantaire? How can you just leave after all that's happened? How can you do that to him?"

Grantaire frowned. He really didn't understand what all the fuss was about. What did it matter anyway? Absentmindedly, he had grabbed another beer from the fridge and he sat back down on the couch. "What exactly is the big deal? You know very well why I'm leaving, so does Enjolras, cause it's in the note and I expected you of all people to be happy about this, so why do you care so much?"

"It's not about me, Grantaire! And it's not about you either", Combeferre was close to yelling now, "It's about Enjolras and the fact that you decide to send him a goodbye note while he's in the freaking hospital, fighting for his life and in pain and confused. He doesn't understand any of this Grantaire...He thought the two of you were okay!"

Grantaire said nothing, but silently sipped his beer, waiting - hoping? - for Combeferre to continue, which he did.

"You can't drop a bomb like that on a person who's just starting to recover from a life threatening accident, Grantaire. And definitely not by leaving a note! Be a man and have the guts to tell it to him face to face. He deserves more from you."

This time Grantaire did speak up. "That is exactly why I'm leaving in the first place and why I left the note. I'm only trouble for him, he deserves better. He's better off without me. He doesn't even care about me anyway..."

"You're an idiot, R, how can you even say that? He cares about all his friends. You know what he said when he read your note? He thought he did something wrong! He thought that somehow, he must've done something to drive you away. That this was all on him."

Grantaire swallowed thickly. "Why would he think that?", he whispered sadly.

"Why? Because he doesn't understand. In case you forgot, he's been unconscious most of the time for the past few days. He hasn't gone through all the fear and the waiting. All he knew – or thought he knew - was that the two of you were okay, and now you're telling him you're leaving. And not only that, your note also suggests that Enjolras should feel happy that you're gone. That you won't be a bother to him anymore. You're making him feel guilty and he doesn't deserve that Grantaire. Why don't you get that you're going about this all the wrong way?"

Combeferre's voice had softened a little, but he still sounded angry. Grantaire didn't understand anymore. He thought he was finally doing something good. Tears were leaking from his eyes and he sniffled. He had dropped the beer he was drinking and was now lying sideways on the couch. _Why does everything I do go wrong?_

He took a deep breath and wiped his tears away. "I'm only trying to do the right thing, 'Ferre", he whispered.

"I know you do. But leaving doesn't solve anything, 'Taire", Combeferre said, friendlier this time, "You want to run away instead of facing what's happened and dealing with it. Enjolras doesn't want you to go. He doesn't, and you should believe that when I'm the one telling you, because I don't lie...You know that every time he wakes up, he asks if you are okay?"

Grantaire was now quietly sobbing. He felt awful. And everything Combeferre said was right, but how could it be right? He nearly killed Enjolras...why did anyone want him to stay? He wasn't good for anything.

"Don't leave", Combeferre said now, quieter this time, "please, R, you can't go. Not like this. You might not believe it, but you mean a lot to all of us. You can't do this...not to Enjolras; not to any of us. He's already been through enough, don't you think? He needs to get better now; he needs to be okay, I need him to be okay..."

Combeferre's voice cracked a little and he sounded so tired and worn out at that moment. And Grantaire realized Combeferre was basically begging him. Not only did he repeatedly ask him to stay, he also said that he, Grantaire, meant a lot to 'us', Combeferre included. _Does that mean he still cares for me? After everything? _It was clear that all the medical student really wanted was for his best friend to get better.

Grantaire squeezed his eyes shut and pressed the phone closer to his ear. "What do I do then, 'Ferre? I don't know anymore, I screw everything up."

He heard how Combeferre took a few deep breaths; trying to compose himself. "Just...just get here 'Taire", he mumbled, "just come to the hospital and talk to Julien. You need to talk to him; tell him he didn't do anything wrong. Tell him you're not leaving...just...fix it, 'Taire...He actually wants you around; it shouldn't be this hard."

No, it shouldn't. But it was... Grantaire knew he should listen to Combeferre. He was Enjolras' best friend; he knew him better than anyone. So if he said to come and talk to Enjolras, then maybe Grantaire should.

"But I can't", he whispered, "I can't drive like this...and I don't have any money...because I don't know where my wallet it...guess I lost it; good for nothing..."

"I'll send Courf over to pick you up. He'll be there soon...just...clean yourself up a bit, alright?"

Grantaire chuckled, but there was no happiness there whatsoever. And Combeferre knew. They were both silent for a few moments, but then Combeferre spoke again. And he said something that almost broke Grantaire's heart.

"Things will be better, Grantaire..., try to believe that, alright?"

And just like that Combeferre had gone from an angry, yelling and protective mother bear, to a wise, comforting and consoling good friend. It was a transformation that only Combeferre could make without it being weird. Because he knew exactly what his friends needed. Because he wasn't only Enjolras' guide, but everybody's.

Grantaire sniffled again. "Yeah", he whispered softly, but there was hardly any credibility in it.

"I'll see you soon...And I'll tell Julien you'll be here", and with that Combeferre hung up the phone. Grantaire stared at it for a minute and then slowly got to his feet. He walked back to the bedroom and looked at the still empty suitcase. With a deep sigh he picked it up and shoved it under the bed. _Can't leave now_, he thought and he wiped a hand across his face.

Then he stumbled towards the bathroom and got in the shower. The least he could do was clean up like Combeferre had said. He didn't really know what was happening or where he and Combeferre were. All he did know, though, was that he really did not look forward to seeing Enjolras.

TBC.

* * *

_(I wasn't planning on making this entire chapter phone call based, but this is just what flowed out of me. Hope you like it, please let me know and review? Thanks!)_


	18. Chapter 18

_(Hi guys! Sorry for the long wait. As many of you know I've been on holiday in the south of Spain – which was totally awesome by the way - but I'm back now and I'm looking forward to updating again. Thank you for all your kind reviews on the previous chapter, it means a lot :) Hope you'll enjoy this one too!)_

Combeferre stood in the hospital hallway for a little while after he had hung up the phone. He closed his eyes for a moment and pulled a hand through his already tousled hair. Grantaire was losing it. He started drinking again; he was drowning in his own guilt and Combeferre felt like everything was spinning out of control. He knew he had been hard on Grantaire, but he didn't fully regret his behavior towards him. Maybe he could've been a little more understanding, but Combeferre refused to simply get round the fact that his best friend was lying in the hospital because of Grantaire.

_But he is falling; he is falling and he needs his friends to catch him. Can't you see that?_ Of course Combeferre could see that. Of course he could. And naturally he wanted to help him. They were friends, they always would be. But ever since Combeferre found out what had happened that night of the accident, something was blocking all of his attempts to reach out to Grantaire. He tried, he really did, and he was sure he was more reasonable towards the drunkard now than he had been days ago. But it was still so hard.

And he had to get it of his chest. Because suddenly Combeferre felt like he was drowning too. He didn't know how to handle all these feelings. Anger on the one hand, but guilt on the other, because he didn't want to be one of the reasons for Grantaire to feel miserable. And it was all topped by this overflowing fear and concern he felt for Enjolras. That protectiveness over the little brother - that wasn't actually his brother - weighed on top of him like a heavy rock that even Achilles himself wouldn't be able to lift.

Combeferre needed to talk to someone. Really talk. And right now there was only one person he really wanted to talk to about all this, even though he feared that person would not be happy when he heard how he had treated some of his friends. He took another deep breath, nodded to himself and entered Enjolras' room where he was met with two pairs of concerned and confused eyes.

* * *

Enjolras' head was swimming. He had no idea what was going on around him. He couldn't for the life of him figure out why Grantaire all of a sudden felt the urge to leave them and he didn't understand why Combeferre and the rest of the Amis that had been with him tensed up every time someone mentioned Grantaire's name. He had obviously missed something while he was out and fighting for his life, something important, and no one seemed to have the decency to enlighten him. Which was very frustrating and most of all confusing. His mind was already foggy and blurred and everything that was happening now only made him more entangled.

"Where'd you go?" he asked Combeferre the minute his older friend entered his room. "What is going on, Combeferre? Why is Grantaire leaving? What happened?"

He felt how Courfeyrac – who was still seated next to him – placed a calming hand on his forearm. A friendly gesture, but one that Enjolras didn't need right now. He needed answers and he was going to get them.

"'Ferre?"

Combeferre shook his head dejectedly and held up his hand. Then he turned to Courfeyrac and felt happy that he could only find understanding and sympathy in his eyes. "Courf…I told Grantaire to come over to the hospital, but he is incapable of driving himself right now, so I said you'd be able to pick him up…Do you mind?"

Courfeyrac smiled knowingly and shook his head. "Not at all 'Ferre…he's still here then? He hasn't left?" He glanced towards Enjolras, who was looking frantically from Combeferre to Courfeyrac and back, obviously very agitated and displeased that he was being ignored.

"Calm down, Julien. It's no good for you to get all worked up…I'll talk with you in a minute", Combeferre said when he noticed how his friend's heart rate picked up and his breathing became a little more labored. He squeezed Enjolras' shoulder softly and then turned back to Courfeyrac to answer his question.

"He's still here…"

Courfeyrac nodded – clearly relieved - and stood. Before he left the room, he lightly ruffled Enjolras' hair and pressed his hand. "I'll see you in a bit, mon ami", he said gently, "Don't worry so much, everything will be fine." He left the room before Enjolras could react to that.

Enjolras huffed and shifted restlessly in the bed. No matter what position he tried to get himself into, he was never comfortable. The pain was always present. "Don't worry, he says, but no one tells me anything", he grumbled groggily and he glared at Combeferre who had now taken a seat next to him and seemed to be fighting a smile.

"Are you sulking?" he asked, barely able to keep the slight amusement from his voice, even though there was nothing amusing about this whole situation.

Enjolras narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Then he shifted again and let out a exasperated sigh. "Combeferre, you have no idea how frustrating this is for me. There is clearly something going on; there's this constant tension and I've noticed it before and everyone is acting strange around me, especially when someone mentions Grantaire and I have no clue of what is going on. I told him I wasn't mad at him; I've told all of you guys…I thought things were okay and now suddenly he is telling me that he has to leave and I don't understand. I don't understand any of it and I feel completely out of control of the situation and that definitely isn't a good feeling when I'm already not in control over my own body because of those damn painkillers that don't even work! And I've had enough of it, I need you to tell me what is going on. I deserve to know! What did I do?" He was panting by the time he had said all this.

Combeferre shook his head sadly and looked directly into Enjolras' eyes, which were wide and full of utter confusion. He was right; he deserved to know…although his poor friend was making all the wrong conclusions and Combeferre needed to fix that immediately, because it wasn't fair and it sure as hell wasn't beneficial to his recovery. "First of all", he started quietly, "I need you to calm down, Julien, I'm serious. You have two major surgeries behind you; you're weak and you're hurting and you'll only worsen your condition if you keep working yourself up like this."

Enjolras glared at him incrediously, but pressed his lips, nodded curtly and forced himself to calm down and get his breathing under control. Combeferre watched the machines and let out a breath of his own when all the ratings got back to normal. "Thank you", he said with a small smile.

"Second of all, you didn't do anything wrong. You hear me? Not a damn thing."

Enjolras opened his mouth to respond, but Combeferre looked at him pleadingly and said: "Just let me talk for now, alright…?" Enjolras swallowed the words he was about to say and nodded. An unpleasant feeling settled in the pit of his stomach as he took in the pure look of misery in Combeferre's eyes. _What on earth is going on?_

"No one is acting strange around _you_ when Grantaire is mentioned, Julien", Combeferre began quietly. "But to be honest, it's not all that odd that you feel that way, because they are acting strange, or tense, or cautious, or whatever, because of me. And since I have been with you pretty much 24/7, you have been present every time it happened. Causing you to apparently draw the wrong conclusions.."

Combeferre briefly looked into Enjolras' eyes, where he found nothing but confusion and looked away again. He decided it was better now to just tell his best friend everything that had happened since he was first brought in here. "I…I haven't been all that friendly to Grantaire the past few days…I have been angry, disappointed and downright furious at times and I've…I've pretty much blamed him for everything that has happened to you. And I've told him that too…"

Enjolras blinked owlishly at Combeferre. He could hardly believe what he was hearing, because it was so unlike his best friend to act like that to any of their friends. Combeferre was the wise one, always gentle and understanding. Always there to help. He slowly shook his head. "B-but why? 'Ferre…I told you that I wasn't mad…I told you I didn't blame him, that it was an accident. No one was at fault…I told you that even before my first surgery…"

There was no anger in Enjolras' voice, only honest confusion and incomprehension. Combeferre closed his eyes and let out a deep sigh. "I know you did, Julien…but frankly, the moment Grantaire told me how that accident happened, I didn't really care that much about what you told me and I'm sorry for that, but it's the truth."

Enjolras frowned, but remained silent.

"When it comes to you, Julien… When something happens to you, something inside me just snaps. You know how protective I can be…overprotective maybe, and most of the time, I'm able to keep it under control. Most of the time, I can manage and keep my temper in check without lashing out to whoever it was that hurt you, but this time, Enjolras… You have to understand…We got so close…so close to losing you. You were hanging on by a thread, you crashed twice during that first surgery and I just couldn't…" Combeferre heard how his voice cracked and he silently cursed himself. He cleared his throat and tried again. "I've never been so scared in my life and I was so mad at him. I'm still angry with him, because no matter what you or anyone says, you wouldn't have been in here if he wasn't stupid drunk. But I know I've let my anger get the best of me….I knew he was feeling guilty, and I just responded to it. I know I should've handled it differently, but I just lost control I guess."

He paused for a moment and glanced at his blond friend, who was looking stoically ahead. Face unreadable and Combeferre felt the knot in his stomach tighten.

"When you were improving after that first surgery and when they took you off the ventilator, I slowly got back to myself and I knew I had been unreasonably angry with Grantaire. I've said things to him that were uncalled for…I refused to let him see you…And even though I know I could've toned it down a little, I didn't think that it was wrong of me to be angry with him. And I still don't think that. But anyway, when you were improving, I took him to see you, as you know, because you've talked to him yourself…"

"I told him we were fine; that everything was okay…" Enjolras whispered.

"Yes, I know that, Courf told me…And I told him I'd be able to forgive him too, you know. Told him that I'd probably already had forgiven him…But I don't think I have…not yet. And then you had another bleeding and had to go through another surgery and even though I didn't directly say anything about it to Grantaire, I know that his guilt only multiplied after that…He started drinking again, apparently…"

"He stopped drinking? When he felt that miserable?"

"I guess so, yes…I don't really know much about that, because I haven't talked to Grantaire much, but maybe Courf or Bahorel can tell you more about that…or Grantaire himself, since he's on his way here too…"

"Look, Julien, I refuse to believe that Grantaire's mental state at this point is all on me, because he was already feeling dead guilty before I lashed out to him, but I know that I haven't exactly been helping and I know that I…"

"Have confirmed everything he already blamed himself for and knocked him down even further?" Enjolras muttered bitterly, but he immediately regretted those words when he saw the look of shock and sadness on his best friends face. Combeferre felt as if someone was knocking all the air out of his lungs. He had expected Enjolras not to be pleased with the way he had handled things, but he would've never thought Enjolras to be this upset with him. He swallowed thickly and turned away, but he then felt someone grab his wrist.

"Shit, 'Ferre…I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that…I just…I don't know, everything is so messed up…. I'm not mad at you, alright? I can't say that I approve of how you've handled things, but I understand…I do… If the roles had been reversed, I would've probably acted the same way. Hell, I would've been way worse to him. I can be a bastard to him even when no one is hurt…we all know that." Enjolras searched Combeferre's eyes and was glad to see some relief in there. He hated that haunted look that had been present there ever since he had first seen his friend right before his surgery. "I don't really know how these past days must have been for any of you, but I can imagine they have been awful and I'm sorry…I'm sorry I scared you, but 'Ferre, I'm doing okay now. I am…"

Combeferre smiled half heartedly, but shook his head. "You're nowhere near okay, Julien… You're doing better than you were, yes, but you're not okay, not in the slightest." He looked Enjolras in the eyes and he suddenly felt sure enough to confide in him again. "I've felt so lost these days, Julien…I haven't been myself and I've handled things all the wrong way and now I'm stuck with this guilt that I can't seem to get rid of, because every time I try to make things right, I remember how close I've come to losing you and I get angry again and I'm just going back and forth between the two…And I just need you to be okay, I need you to get better, I need you to come home…"

His breath hitched and before Combeferre really knew what was happening, he was crying. And the minute those first few tears trickled down his face, he just didn't know how to stop and the crying turned into actual sobs and he felt miserable. And then someone tucked at his arm and pulled him onto the bed and he stayed there until he had calmed down. Enjolras had held a firm hold of his hand all the time and spoke reassuring words to him. "I'll be okay, 'Ferre, I promise".

* * *

When the tears had subsided, the two best friends lay silently next to each other; Combeferre in a slightly uncomfortable angle to make sure Enjolras' injuries wouldn't be bothered. "You know you have to let this go right?" Enjolras spoke softly after a while. "You can't stay mad at him forever, 'Ferre…I get where you're coming from, but it really was an accident…"

"An accident that could've been prevented."

"All accidents can…, that's why they're called accidents..." Enjolras mumbled with a sad smile. "Point is that we are a family and we don't work well when some of us are at odds…I've noticed it, you and Courf have noticed it and probably everyone else as wel…I think Grantaire is punishing himself enough already without you adding something to it, don't you think?"

Combeferre snorted humorlessly. "Probably", he whispered. "Since when did you become the one to give me advice on how to handle my anger issues? I thought it was the other way around.."

That earned him a light chuckle. "Well, apparently since, for once, I'm not the one who's mad at Grantaire, but you are…"

They were both silent again; comfortable in each other's company. Enjolras felt drained and wanted nothing more than to just go back to sleep again; to escape the ever present pain, but he knew Grantaire would probably be in his room in a little while and so he tried with all his might to fight his exhaustion. He had almost lost the battle when Combeferre spoke up again, successfully bringing him back to full consciousness.

"I'll try to get passed this…I'll try to help him get back on his feet if he wants me to, although you're my main priority, Julien," Enjolras grinned a little at that, "I'll do my best, but I'll tell you now the same thing that I told him. I can't forget what happened; I won't. I will always remember it, so don't ask that of me."

Enjolras nodded, because this was something he could fully understand. After everything that had happened, he couldn't expect Combeferre to just will it all away. "I won't", he said firmly, "Only that you give him another chance, like you would any of us.."

"I can do that…It's going to take time though."

Enjolras smiled and closed his eyes for a bit. He was sure things would be okay. This was Combeferre; the most honest, just and gentle person he had ever known. He had no doubt he and Grantaire would figure things out. "We've got time", he whispered drowsily, no longer able to fight the fatigue and he let sleep slowly take him away, leaving Combeferre alone with his thoughts.

Combeferre stayed on the bed next to his friend; thinking about their conversation and all the things that had happened in the course of the past few days. He stayed that way for another half hour or so, until the door of the hospital room carefully creaked open and revealed a haggard and extremely nervous looking Grantaire.

TBC.

_(Well, longest chapter yet! I really wanted to get a little bit more inside the psyche of Combeferre in this chapter, so that's what I've tried to do. I hope it came out well. Please let me know what you think and review. It would mean a lot! Thanks and till next time!)_


	19. Chapter 19

_(Hi guys! Thanks again for all the responses and support I've gotten. It means so much to me :) I struggled a bit with this chapter that's why it took me a little longer to write, but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless)_

* * *

He should have just_ left_. He should have left the minute he handed that note to Combeferre. But he didn't. He was too scared to go; too hesitant; too much of a coward.

_And now Combeferre is angry again. And probably Courf too - even though he doesn't want to show it - and the rest of them if they find out._ Grantaire sighed, a shaky breath that did nothing to conceil his growing nerves. He shook his head and rubbed his hands together. Yes, he should have just left when he had the chance. _Now I have to face Enjolras and explain to him why I attempted to hurt him even more than I already did..._

_"He doesn't understand what's happening. He thought the two of you were okay. He thinks he has done something wrong."_ Combeferre's words of anger and disbelief regarding his announcement echoed through his head. But how could Enjolras not understand? Surely, he wouldn't have been too upset if Grantaire left. It wasn't like they were the best of friends...And why on earth would he think he had done something wrong? Enjolras hardly ever thought - let alone admitted - he did something wrong to Grantaire_. Really must be the drugs_, Grantaire thought bitterly.

He tapped his foot on the ground and pulled a hand through his still half-wet hair. He was a complete mess and he knew it. He'd taken a shower the minute he and Combeferre had ended their call, but he still felt filthy and disgusting, because he had failed at his attempt to quite the drink. He couldn't even do that for Enjolras, and his own lack of perseverance made him sick to his stomach. But at least he wasn't shaking anymore; he wasn't feverish and the headache had subsided.

"You know, nothing is going to happen if you just keep on twitching and tapping out here in the hallway 'Taire", Courfeyrac mumbled quietly and he draped an arm around the drunkard's shoulders. "Enjolras knows you're coming in to see him, so does 'Ferre, cause he told you to, so just go in there and get it over with. I promise you'll only feel better afterwards."

Grantaire snorted and let out a cynical laugh. "I seriously doubt that."

"He's not mad at you, R...he really isn't, I promise. Neither am I, nor are the others...not that they know that you were planning on leaving, but still." Courfeyrac watched his friend closely and smiled sadly when he noticed how Grantaire tried his best to hold the tears at bay. "Combeferre will turn around as well, just wait and see. He just needs his protégé to get better first...don't tell Enj I called him that."

Grantaire smiled a little and Courfeyrac gently squeezed his shoulder. "Really 'Taire, just go in and talk to him."

Grantaire gave him a nervous look and cleared his throat. He seriously doubted Courfeyrac's words - because how could everything get better or be fine after all that had happened? - but he knew his friend was right when he said that nothing would happen if he kept freaking out in the hospital hallway.

"Yeah, okay", he whispered hoarsely as he wiped the sweat of his hands on his shirt. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes for a second and opened the door as soft as possible.

* * *

When he stepped inside he saw how Enjolras was in the same place as he had been for the past week; fast asleep in his bed. Next to him was Combeferre. Also on the bed and his eyes slightly red. Grantaire wondered if it was just fatigue or maybe something else…Combeferre eyed him warily and carefully swung his legs to the side of the bed, cautious of Enjolras' injuries. "Good to see you here", he said in a low voice, although he didn't look all that pleased. Then he gently carded his hand through Enjolras' hair and spoke quietly to him.

"Don't...don't wake him of because of me...I-I can come back another time, let him sleep", Grantaire said hastily.

"He wants to talk to you", Combeferre mumbled absentmindedly and then he turned towards Grantaire again to look at him sternly over the top of his glasses. "And you _need_ to talk to him."

Grantaire wanted to protest again, but thought better of it when he saw Combeferre's face. So he remained silent and stood a safe distance from Combeferre and Enjolras; nervously wobbling back and forth on his feet. He watched how Combeferre gently woke Enjolras up and how he told him that Grantaire was here to see him.

It took Enjolras some time to fully wake up again. He was really tired and those 40 minutes of sleep hadn't done anything for him. But he really wanted to speak to Grantaire, so he forced his eyes to stay open and he let Combeferre help him sit up straight. Then his eyes met Grantaire's and his heart skipped a beat as he took in the drunkard's appearance. He really did not look good.

Enjolras offered Grantaire a small smile, but all he got in return was a nervous swallow and a downwards look. He frowned and turned to Combeferre, but the medical student only shrugged and rearranged the pillow so that his roommate was lying more comfortably. He then cleared his throat, looked from Enjolras to Grantaire and back and said quietly: "I'll leave you two alone for a bit...and I will be waiting just outside the door...but press the button if something's wrong, Julien, or if the pain gets too bad...or if you don't feel good, or if..."

Enjolras smiled reassuringly and squeezed Combeferre's hand. "I'll be fine 'Ferre, I promise." He kept his voice so low that Grantaire had to strain his ears to hear them. He immediately felt guilty for trying to, since they were obviously not meant for him.

Grantaire watched how Combeferre got up from his chair and walked over to the door. He stopped right next to him and cast a look back at Enjolras. Then he hesitantly lay a hand on Grantaire's shoulder and said in a soft voice: "I'm glad you came..."

* * *

Grantaire didn't say anything in return, but nodded jerkily and watched as Combeferre left the room with one last look back. When the door was closed, Grantaire looked back at Enjolras, who now had his eyebrows slightly raised. "Are you going to keep standing there or can you come and sit down here next to me?", he asked in a voice only a little weak from tiredness.

Grantaire cleared his throat and walked towards the chair next to Enjolras' bed. His knees were buckling and his heart was pounding, although he didn't quite understand why he was so nervous. Enjolras didn't look angry or upset; he had a small smile on his face and his eyes were soft and only slightly glazed over by either pain, fever or fatigue. Or a combination of the three.

Grantaire sat down and took in Enjolras' appearance. He was pale and there were dark smudges under his eyes; he looked thinner than normal and his hair was greasy and not nearly as bright as it used to be. Pain was evident on his face, even though Grantaire knew Enjolras was doing his best to try and hide it from him.

"You know, I really can come back another time, Apollo. You look like you could use some sleep and I can imagine you wouldn't want to speak with me anyway, after everything...", Grantaire muttered nervously.

When he glanced up at Enjolras, he could just see how the blond rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath that sounded very much like "damn your low self-esteem". Then Enjolras reached towards his bedside table and grabbed a small piece of paper that Grantaire recognized immediately and his heart sank.

"I do want to speak with you, Grantaire", he said seriously and his blue eyes focused on the drunkard. The smile was gone, but his eyes were still gentle and soft, "I want you to explain this to me." And he handed over the piece of paper. "Because I do not understand it."

Grantaire took the paper and stared at it. He remembered how he felt when he wrote it; just after he had received the news that Enjolras had had a setback. He read the words again and swallowed thickly. "It kind of speaks for itself, doesn't it?", he said quietly.

"Not really", Enjolras responded, voice a little cooler than before.

They looked at each other and Enjolras continued. "I was under the impression that you and I were okay; I told you how I felt about what happened and I thought I had made it perfectly clear we would be fine; no hard feelings. And yet Combeferre tells me that you asked him to give me a note in which you state that it isn't at all possible for you to stay here and that it would be better for me and everyone if you'd just left. You didn't even come to tell me yourself. So, again, I do not understand this."

Grantaire blinked at Enjolras; momentarily at a loss for words. It was quite amazing that Enjolras could sound so rational and fierce while he was clearly not feeling that way. As if there was some kind of aura around him that never faltered, no matter how sick or injured he was.

"I nearly killed you Apollo...I am only a danger to you and everyone knows it. You must know it too...", he whispered.

Enjolras raised his eyebrows. "If I remember correctly, I was the one who pushed you away from the car, that was my own decision. And I highly doubt you are a danger to me and even if you were, I think I am perfectly capable of protecting myself from said 'surreal' danger. I'm a grown man, Grantaire, not a child. I don't need protection."

"It would've never happened if I wasn't so drunk", Grantaire muttered, slightly annoyed by the way Enjolras made everything sound so logical even though they really weren't. "You wouldn't be lying here if I hadn't provoked you or tried to get a raise out of you on our walk home."

To his surprise, Enjolras nodded. "Maybe not, so that can be a lesson to you if you want it to be. But it is no use to keep living in the past. Maybe it wouldn't have happened, maybe it would have, you don't know that and you never will. Point is that it was an accident and I do not blame you for it. I am not angry with you, nor am I disappointed or upset or think you are a danger to me. And I told you all of these things, so why then did you still feel the need to run away?"

Grantaire looked to the ground and did not answer.

"Do my words not hold any truth to you? Do you not believe me when I say that everything is fine?", Enjolras asked quietly.

"I don't know, Apollo", Grantaire sighed and he shook his head, "I don't know what I have to believe or what I have to think. All I know is that this is my fault, no matter what you or anyone else says. I feel like it is my fault and you have no idea how happy it makes me to hear you say that you don't blame me; that all is good. But I don't want to hear it, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve to get off that easily. You could've died! You nearly died! That's all on me and I deserve some sort of punishment. And I thought I could do just that by leaving you guys; because my greatest fear is to live without my friends…But turns out that I did not even have the courage to do that. I couldn't leave, Apollo…I tried, but I couldn't…I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry for everything.."

Enjolras watched Grantaire intently and his heart clenched when he heard his friend's depressive train of thoughts. He knew Grantaire felt guilty, both Courfeyrac and Combeferre had told him so, but he hadn't expected it to be this bad. And he suddenly wondered if he was ever going to be able to convince Grantaire that he really did not have to feel this way.

"'Taire…", he mumbled quietly, "Listen…I understand you feel guilty, I do, even though I don't agree with it…but I'm going to be fine. I'm not dead; I'll be out of here soon enough, I swear. Everything turned out to be okay."

Grantaire opened his mouth to speak, but Enjolras silenced him. "And you're already punishing yourself enough…No one wants you gone, Grantaire. Not me nor any of our friends. You are the only one that thinks you have to bear so much guilt; the _only _one."

"I'm not so sure about that Apollo", Grantaire whispered.

"Combeferre will turn around", Enjolras stated firmly, because he immediately knew what Grantaire was talking about. "I've talked to him about this whole situation and I know how he's feeling and how he has been treating you and I can promise you, Grantaire, that he doesn't want you gone and he isn't as angry with you as you think he is. He's just having a hard time dealing with all of this and at this point you are an easy target to pick on, even though he knows his anger is unreasonable."

Grantaire swallowed and averted his eyes again. Why was Enjolras so nice to him? Why couldn't he understand that Grantaire didn't deserve any kindness or forgiveness? He wanted nothing more than to believe every word Enjolras said. He wanted to take the offered hand and move forward together, but something held him back and he didn't know how to fight it or if he even should.

"Grantaire…", Enjolras sighed while he rubbed a shaky hand over his tired eyes. He was becoming desperate. Why couldn't he make Grantaire see that it didn't have to be this way. "Running away doesn't solve anything. You say you feel guilty…then deal with it. Not by leaving, because that wouldn't change a single thing. It's the cowardice way out and I think you know that. You can keep on dwelling on how things could have been different or think of ways to punish yourself, but you can also accept what has happened and move on from that. Listen to what I'm telling you and try to think logically on how you can deal with it. Learn from it, don't run away from it."

"And how exactly do I do that?", Grantaire muttered. He was hanging on every word Enjolras said. It sounded logical enough, but could he really do it? Could he accept that this was just a mistake that he had to accept and then move on?

"I don't know, R…maybe you could cut down on your drinking, for example, or try not to annoy me as much as possible?", Enjolras suggested with a small smile.

"I already tried that", Grantaire sighed, "Stop drinking I mean, and I failed, because I fail at everything."

Enjolras let out an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "Stop doing that. Stop putting yourself down all the time. How do you ever expect things to get better if you keep doing that? And you didn't try 'cutting down', you tried to quit cold turkey when you were already feeling miserable. Of course you didn't pull through!"

He was getting frustrated and trying to convince Grantaire of his own self-worth proved to be much more difficult than he had thought. He was tired and in pain and he really just wanted to go to sleep now and not worry about Grantaire or Combeferre or how this was all getting out of control. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth when the pain suddenly spiked again. When he opened his eyes, Grantaire looked even more guiltily. Enjolras sighed again and reached for Grantaire's hand. Grantaire hesitated, but then decided to just do as Enjolras wanted. He was already giving the blond too much stress.

"Let me help you. I can keep on telling you that everything is fine and that you really don't have to feel the way you do, but I can see now that you aren't going to take my word for it anyway. So, then let me help you deal with it; learn from it. When I get out of here, you are slowly going to cut down on your drinking habits. And I'll help you; we'll all help you…Does that sound like something you think would work?"

Grantaire breathed heavily and looked at their entwined hands. He wanted to make Enjolras happy and if this was going to make him happy then he would do just that. Or he'd at least try. Maybe he would feel better in the end…if he 'learned' something from it, like Enjolras put it. "I hope so…I'd like to try that…", he said quietly.

Enjolras smiled at him and squeezed his hand before letting go again. Holding hands just did not really seem like something he and Grantaire would do. They weren't that close. "Good…just…promise me you're not going to do anything stupid in the meantime."

Grantaire smirked and for a second he looked like his old, sarcastic self. "Geeze, Enj, you're asking something big here. That includes a whole lot of things and I am born to do stupid things; you always remind me of that."

"I'm serious here", Enjolras whispered, swallowing a wave of nausea.

Grantaire's smile faded and he nodded. "I know…I'll try"

"Just come to me if you don't feel good, alright? Or to any of the others, I don't really mind. Just don't keep dwelling on it yourself." Enjolras was aware of the fact that his eyes had slipped closed and his words were a bit slurred, but he couldn't help it. This was the longest he had stayed awake ever since he had been in the hospital and the exhaustion combined with pain and stress was taking its toll. Grantaire had noticed too, because he was already standing and about to leave the room.

"You need to rest, Apollo...Enjolras…I…Thank you for this…I-I don't really know how to feel right now, but hey, at least it gives me something to think about…I…Maybe I can come back tomorrow? Or not, just…whatever you feel like…"

Enjolras opened his eyes again and nodded. "Tomorrow. And I want you to take this and throw it away". He handed Grantaire his goodbye note and smiled when he saw how the drunkard crumbled it in his fist. He was already half asleep when he heard the soft click of a door being shut.

TBC.

* * *

_(Hmm, I really hope this turned out okay. It feels a bit OOC to me, but I tried to stay close to (my portrayal of) the characters. Please let me know what you think and review? It would mean a lot, thanks!)_


	20. Chapter 20

_(Hi guys! Thank you again all so much for your continued support. I can't see often enough how much it means to me. You guys are the best! So, this chapter took me a little longer to get up, because I was kind of struggling with the content of it. I really hope it turned out realistic and believable enough, though. Enjoy!)  
_

* * *

In the course of the next three days, Enjolras' condition was slowly improving. He was still in pain; he still tired easily and he was still running a slight fever, but all in all things got better. He was able to decide himself when he needed the painkillers; he no longer needed the blood transfusion and he was a lot more coherent while awake. He was no longer in the Intensive Care and his friends were now all able to visit him during visiting hours instead of just the one or two friends he had seen apart from Combeferre.

Combeferre wasn't all that happy with that particular development, because it meant that he too was constricted to these hours while all he really wanted to do was to stay with Enjolras all the time. And he knew Enjolras felt the same way, even though he wouldn't easily admit it. But no matter how uncomfortable this fact made Combeferre feel, he was able to ignore it because of the overwhelming happiness and relief he felt that his best friend was finally, truly on the mend.

In the meantime however, Enjolras was getting more and more restless. All joy and contentment he felt whenever the doctor told him he was doing better each day, was soon overshadowed by a feeling of extreme restlessness and uneasiness. He wanted out; he wanted to go back home and get back to work. And apart from that, Enjolras really hated hospitals. He was forced to lie around in bed all day to relax and sleep, which he really wasn't good at at all and apart from that, he just really hated hospitals; they held bad memories that he wished to forget.

All in all, to Enjolras, spending time in the hospital was a waste of time and completely unnecessary because he "was doing fine and therefore well enough to go home". And, much to the chagrin of Combeferre, he was all too happy to tell the doctors and the nurses exactly that every single time they took his temperature or checked his vitals.

* * *

"I can rest just as well in my apartment as I can here", Enjolras muttered indignantly when the doctor once again shook his head to his question if he could be released from the hospital. "I'm unnecessarily occupying a bed which could much better be used for someone who really needs it."

Combefere – who had just walked into the room when the doctor left – rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Will you stop?", he said in a frustrated voice; clearly no longer in the mood for Enjolras' persistent twaddle every time he opened his mouth, "They are not keeping you here for their own pleasure, Julien, trust me. You are the patient, he is the doctor and you will do as he says and stay as long as he thinks is necessary. You're being spoiled and pedantic and too stubborn for your own good."

Enjolras glared at Combeferre but did not speak. Why did no one understand that he really, truly, did not need to be in here any longer. He felt fine; he was ready to go home. He was no longer in any serious danger and all he did here was lie around and sleep; he could do that in his own home. He huffed his annoyance and turned away from Combeferre.

"Don't be childish", Combeferre said coolly, "I know you don't like this and I know you think you're well enough to go home, but you're not. And deep down you know that too. Now stop moping and pull yourself together; you'll have visitors soon."

"What, apart from you, you mean?", Enjolras muttered, "Because you are always here and all you do is disagree with me and tell me I'm being a bad patient and I really do not need to hear that. You know perfectly well why I want to go home and yet it's almost as if you enjoy seeing me here in this bed. You're only here to lecture me, that's all you ever do, while I can think of much more useful things for you to do that don't involve bugging me with your presence. You're not all perfect yourself, you know. Have you talked to Grantaire yet?" Enjolras knew he was being unreasonable and downright mean, but he couldn't help it. He was just fed up with everything and everyone and being stuck here really did not help at all.

"Apart from me, yes", Combeferre snarled, more than a little hurt by Enjolras' outburst. "And if I annoy you so much, just say so and I'll leave. But I wonder if you can find someone else who's willing to listen to you sulking the whole livelong day. You're acting like a stuck up child, Julien."

Enjolras gritted his teeth, but swallowed the words he wanted to say. He knew Combeferre would really leave if he told him so and truth be told, that was the very last thing he wanted. This whole hospital stay was only just bearable because Combeferre was there to see him as often as he could. Because Combeferre's presence alone could calm him down and make him feel better, whether that was mentally or physically. Because Combeferre was the only one who knew why this was all so hard for him; he was the only one who understood. So to prevent himself from blowing up, Enjolras closed his eyes in frustration and slowly counted to ten. Then he turned back around and eyed Combeferre warily.

"I'm not sulking", Enjolras mumbled defiantly while he tried to sit up a little straighter; wincing as he did so. "I'm just tired of not being able to do anything…I feel fine and yet I don't…I don't feel like myself and I just…I really want to go home, Combeferre. I don't like hospitals; I don't want to be here..."

Combeferre's expression softened at that and he offered his friend a small, but understanding smile. No one liked hospitals, but Enjolras really hated them. It wasn't exactly that he feared them; he just did not like to be seen as a vulnerable person. But that was exactly what happened when you were lying in a hospital bed, surrounded by various machines and IV's and checked on by nurses or doctors every hour or so. Enjolras disliked all the concerned glances his friends threw at him or the sympathy with which people approached him. It made him really uncomfortable for some reason.

And apart from that Combeferre knew very well about the things that happened between Enjolras and his mother and father in the past. And hospitals always played a vital part in these particularily bad memories. Enjolras' mother had suffered from serious depressions ever since she gave birth to her son, which resulted in too many trips to the hospital after the umpteenth suicide attempt; too many days in a mental institution leaving a young, scared and confused Enjolras with a father who really didn't have time for him. Too many fights; too many tears; too much neglect and misunderstanding. Combeferre - as Enjolras' neighbor - had always known something about this whole situation, but was only informed about the true severity of it all when Enjolras himself had fallen in depression and followed his mother's footsteps into the hospital after swallowing a dozen of her pills at the age of ten. Child Support Service had then temporarily placed Enjolras under Combeferre's parents' care until they had investigated his home situation and talked to his father. From that moment on Combeferre and his family were Enjolras' safe haven; they were the first ones that made him feel at home. And though Enjolras never really talked about it, Combeferre knew that they were the reason that he was now where he was. But he also knew that his younger friend had never really dealt with his messed up upbringing and that moments like this - hospital visits, or worse, longer hospital stays - triggered those bad memories and made him feel really miserable. He had been witness of it too many times and he always feared that Enjolras would fall into another depression afterwards; which luckily hadn't happened yet.

Combeferre let out a small sigh and took hold of Enjolras' hand. "I know you don't like hospitals and I understand, Julien, I do, but this is just the way it is for now. Give yourself some credit; you're doing really, really well. Better already than your doctor had expected. You're making progress, but you just have to be a little more patient. The more you work yourself up about not being able to go home yet, the longer it'll take. Just allow yourself to take the rest you need; try not to think too much, just focus on the good things you've got going...and stop feeling embarrassed about being sick."

"I don't…" Enjolras began stubbornly.

Combeferre silenced him however. "You do. I've known you basically all my life, Julien and I know when you feel embarrassed or ashamed. I know you hate not being able to do things on your own. I know you don't like it when people worry about you or when you need to be cared for." Combeferre wanted to say more, but fell silent the minute Jehan, Feuilly and Grantaire walked in. And their conversation was cut short.

* * *

Grantaire was a regular visitor now, he came by at least once a day and he seemed to be doing better already. He smiled more; he slept better and the haunted look in his eyes was no longer there. Enjolras really did his best to make Grantaire feel better. They were able to talk about all sorts of things – apart from politics; a subject they both wisely avoided – and even laughed together now and then. Combeferre and Grantaire, however, were still on the same page. Whenever Grantaire walked into Enjolras' room, Combeferre fell silent. He hardly spoke, but just observed with this strict, judging look in his eyes. Most of the time though, he simply found an excuse to leave the room until Grantaire was gone.

It wasn't that Combeferre was still that angry with Grantaire; he just did not know how to act around the cynic after everything that happened. He didn't trust his own feelings and judgements when it came to Grantaire and that left him confused and awkward. It felt weird to act all normal when there were still so many frustrations. And whenever Combeferre saw how natural and amicably Enjolras and Grantaire were around each other – something that almost never happened – he felt conflicted and strangely irritated and he feared he would ruin it for them with his presence. So he rather left.

* * *

This time proved to be no different, as Combeferre threw his roommate an apologetic look and then muttered something about not wanting Enjolras to be too crowded and going for a coffee downstairs. He was out of the room before any one of the Amis present could say something. Enjolras pressed his lips together in a tight line as he watched his best friend leave the room. This whole thing was really starting to take a toll on him. For some reason, he was feeling guilty, because he knew this weird tension between Grantaire and Combeferre was only there because of him being hurt. And he understood both of them. He knew how hard it was for Combeferre to forgive and forget, but he also knew that there really wasn't a reason for his best friend to stay this angry at Grantaire. He just really wanted things to go back to normal. And apart from that, he really wanted Combeferre to stay with him. He felt ten times worse whenever his best friend wasn't in the room anymore.

Grantaire bit his lip as his eyes too followed Combeferre out of the room. "I'm sorry", he mumbled quietly to Enjolras who swallowed thickly, smiled sadly at him and shook his head. It wasn't Grantaire's fault.

"Maybe you should talk to him, R", Jehan suggested while he and Feuilly both sat down in a chair next to Enjolras' bed, smiling warmly at him while they did so. "And I mean really talk to him…you know, one on one..."

Grantaire snorted and pulled up a chair as well. He carefully placed his legs on the hospital bed and stretched out; ignoring the scowl it earned him from Enjolras. "As if he wants to talk to me. He can't stand to be around me, Jehan…Everyone notices it and I don't blame him for it either. I'm not going to push him into anything he doesn't want", he mumbled sadly.

"Maybe you should", Enjolras whispered quietly. He was still staring at the door, suddenly feeling very drained and not quite like himself now that Combeferre wasn't in the room anymore. It wasn't right and Enjolras just needed this thing to be fixed as soon as possible because he couldn't stand it any longer.

Grantaire looked at him quizzically, with eyebrows raised so high, they nearly disappeared under his dark brown curls. "Maybe I should?"

Enjolras finally tore his eyes away from the door and looked at Grantaire. "Yes", he nodded seriously, "One of you is going to have to take the first step and I know that Combeferre isn't going to be that person."

"Yeah…because he hates me."

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "No, because he doesn't trust himself to do so. He feels very conflicted and he fears he'll act on the wrong emotions if he comes to you, so he rather avoids it." He sighed and looked at the friends surrounding his bed. They all looked puzzled and obviously did not know what he was talking about. "Look…'Ferre is still upset; I won't deny that, but he really wants to make things right too. He told me he has tried to reach out to you, but every time he does so, he gets angry again and then he feels really guilty about it and he just stops trying all together."

"And you think he won't get angry when I'm the one reaching out and try to talk to him?", Grantaire asked incredulously.

"No, I'm sure he will be, but at least he'll be forced to talk and that's really all he wants to do anyway. Besides, I'm getting real tired of this and I need you two to get your act together and figure it out. And since I know Combeferre won't be making that first step, I'm asking you to." Enjolras looked at Grantaire defiantly; daring him to contradict.

"That actually makes sense, R", Feuilly said with a small smile; winking at Enjolras as he continued, "And you should do as Enjolras here tells you. He's a sick man and he gives you an opportunity to make him feel a little better. Surely you'd seize that chance with both hands."

Grantaire huffed and looked from Enjolras to Jehan to Feuilly and back. They were all watching him expectantly with their eyebrows raised and a smirk across their faces. "Fine…if it means that much to you and if you really think it'll help – which I doubt by the way – I'll try to talk to him…soon…"

"Wonderful!" Jehan piped up happily, "Now that's settled, Enjolras, what's got your panties in a twist? Don't think I haven't noticed you pouting when we came in here. Are you not feeling well?"

Both Grantaire and Feuilly sniggered at Jehan's blunt yet adorably effective way of asking questions. Enjolras did not smile, but fixed the young poet with one of his infamous death glares. "I wasn't pouting", he said firmly. "I don't pout. Ever." Then sighed deeply and let his head fall back against the soft pillows. "And I'm actually feeling very well; which is extremely frustrating, because the doctor won't let me go home for some reason. And that doesn't make any sense, because all they want me to do here is rest and work on getting back my strength, while I can do the same in my own apartment."

Before he could start the same rant all over again – like he did pretty much every day now – someone let out a loud groan. "Seriously? That again, Enjolras? You're like this extremely whiney adolescent who gets all agitated when he doesn't get what he wants and who thinks he knows best", Bahorel said with a smug grin as he walked through the doorway and settled down on the end of the bed near Enjolras' feet; shoving Grantaire's legs out of the way in the process. "Stop being annoying and just enjoy the fact that everyone here is working their ass off to make you feel better. Seriously, you are allowed to sleep as much as you want; you get the good drugs; you have complete attention of all your friends. Why on earth are you complaining?"

Bahorel meant to make his friend feel better, but he actually achieved the complete opposite. Enjolras' face fell and he looked really miserable all of a sudden. "Just shut up, Bahorel…I wouldn't expect you to understand", he mumbled quietly and he found himself wishing Combeferre was there again. He was the only one who exactly knew how Enjolras was feeling and why. And he was pretty much also the only one who could really make him feel better, even though Enjolras honestly enjoyed the presence of his other friends as well.

Bahorel's expression went from teasing to serious and he frowned concernedly. "I was just kidding, Enj…I understand it sucks to be stuck in here…"

Enjolras averted his eyes and stared at the sheets. "Yeah…" was all he said in response. And with that the entire atmosphere in the room had changed. No matter how much the four friends tried to cheer the blond up, they only achieved a small smile here and there, but not one of those smiles was heartfelt. After about twenty minutes, Enjolras cleared his throat and quietly asked them to leave. "I'm just really tired…I think I'm going to try and get some sleep if that's okay."

Grantaire, Jehan, Feuilly and Bahorel exchanged worried looks. This wasn't the Enjolras they knew. "Are you sure?", Feuilly asked tentatively, "We we're just teasing Enjolras...we didn't mean anything by it...And we only just got here and really want to spend some time with you...but I guess if you're not feeling up to it, then of course we'll leave you to rest. As long as it is for that reason and not because you think we're making fun of you..."

Enjolras forced himself to smile while all he really wanted to do was curl up on his side and shut everything out. "Just tired, I promise", he said seriously, "I haven't slept all that well last night, that's all..."

His friends hesitated for another moment, but then did as Enjolras asked them. They offered him another warm smile and made their way out of the room. Jehan was the last one to leave. Before he did so, however, he turned around again. "Get some rest Enjolras...we all miss you and want you home just as much as you do..." He paused for another moment and then asked quietly: "Do you want me to get Combeferre or do you honestly want to be alone and sleep?"

Enjolras looked away at that and absentmindedly bit his lip. Apparently this was answer enough for Jehan, because only seconds later he smiled and nodded. "I'll get him." And with that he left the room and softly closed the door behind him.

* * *

When Combeferre opened the door to Enjolras' room only five minutes later, Enjolras immediately felt a little more at ease. Just the presence of his best friend could do that. He smiled at Combeferre; a smile loaded with embarrassment and shame and gladly took the hand the medical student offered; a mutual gesture of understanding on the one hand and gratitude on the other.

"So, Jehan came to get me…, he told me you sent them away and he thought you weren't feeling well. Do you want to talk about it?", Combeferre asked gently, although he was pretty sure he already knew what it was about. Enjolras' facial expression said it all. "You seemed to really enjoy these visits the last few times…"

"I really want to go home now, Combeferre", Enjolras whispered quietly, ignoring Combeferre's questions. This time he sounded a lot more insecure and troubled – a lot more honest - than in his previous rants where he was mostly just sulking and being querulous. "I can't get my mind of things…I don't feel well, I just want to get out of here, please?" And he looked up at his friend with these wide, pleading eyes that made Combeferre's heart ache. "I'm not getting rest here, you know I won't."

Combeferre watched his best friend compassionately. He understood where Enjolras was coming from, he really did. Especially now that he was on his own large parts of the day and he was starting to get a lot more withdrawn emotionally than he had been a few days ago. But there wasn't really much Combeferre could do about it. If Doctor Richieu did not deem Enjolras ready for release yet, then who was he to say otherwise. "Julien…", he started softly while his fingers played with the messy blond curls – a gesture that had always calmed Enjolras down - "as long as your doctor thinks you're not strong enough, there is really not much I can do about it…or want to do about it…your health is my main priority here."

His heart clenched painfully when he saw Enjolras' face fall. He hated to be the bad guy. "You'll be fine, I know you will be. I told you already, you're making such great progress; I'm sure they won't keep you here for much longer and I'll be here as often as they'll allow me…If only you'd talk to me more about what exactly is bothering you…It might help.." He stopped talking when Enjolras closed his eyes for a second and nodded. It wasn't a sign of comprehension or agreement, but rather one of defeat. Enjolras knew he wasn't going to get his way; so he just gave up trying all together.

"I'm actually kind of tired…", he whispered weakly and then he hesitated a little while before adding: "Could you please stay here until I fall asleep?"

"Of course", Combeferre spoke just as quietly while he sat back in his seat. He felt really bad about not being able to help his best friend. He wished there was something he could do; something to erase that pained and nearly desperate expression from Enjolras' face. Denying him what he obviously wanted most – and what Combeferre agreed on was best if he was honest with himself - felt like betraying him in some way. He sat like that, sunken into thought, for another forty minutes until a nurse came in to tell him visiting hours were over. Walking out of the room this time – while leaving Enjolras behind – felt like deserting or abandoning him. And just like that Combeferre made up his mind and instead of going home, he walked up to the reception and asked for a certain doctor to come and talk to him.

* * *

When Enjolras woke up a few hours later, it was pitch dark and he was all alone. His friends were gone. Combeferre was gone. And it was just him. It was at that point that he secretly allowed the tears to fall from his eyes. He wasn't able to go back to sleep the rest of the night.

TBC.

* * *

_(So yeah, this chapter is kind of sad, I think, but I promise it won't be that way for long. I also promise you that Grantaire and Combeferre will have their conversation very soon and that the next chapter will have more Courfeyrac, because I miss him already. I really hope you liked this chapter, if you did, please review and let me know? Thanks so much!)_


	21. Chapter 21

_(Hi guys! thank you all so much for the reviews and responses I got on the previous chapter. Means a lot :) I'm sorry this one took a little longer than usual to get up. I've been busy. Hope you'll like it though. Enjoy!)_

* * *

Enjolras lay awake the rest of the night. He tried to sleep; he really did. He was tired enough; he was exhausted, but that wasn't the point. It was hard to explain but every time he closed his eyes, he flashed back to moments in his life he had done his very best to forget. Moments that normally didn't bother him as much, but right now, in the hospital, all alone, he couldn't help it. He almost felt like that lost ten year old, only trying to do the same thing his mother did so often.

And no matter what he told himself, he just couldn't shake that feeling of extreme loneliness and abandonment that so suddenly came over him. His eyes darted over towards the clock on the wall every 15 minutes or so and he was unconsciously counting the hours until he was allowed to have visitors again.

This was now the third night in a row. The third night that he had such difficulty falling asleep. Ever since he wasn't allowed to have company 24/7, he was starting to feel more and more miserable. And not only mentally, but physically as well. Whenever he was alone, the pain seemed to get worse again and he just overall didn't feel good. He really wanted to go home.

Late evening faded into night and night faded into early morning. By the time the nurse came to bring him his breakfast at 07.30, Enjolras still hadn't slept more than those few little hours after Combeferre left. The nurse eyed him warily for a moment and frowned concernedly. Apparently he didn't only feel well; he didn't look it either. Enjolras tried his best to wave her off when she asked him if he was doing okay, but she still didn't seem convinced by the time she left him alone again.

Enjolras sighed deeply and pushed the breakfast away. He wasn't really hungry and just looking at it made him feel sick. His eyes travelled towards the clock yet again. Another three hours until visiting hour started. And another four hours until he would be alone again and counting the minutes until he was allowed to see his afternoon visitors. Enjolras closed his eyes in quiet desperation. He normally liked to have time to himself. That way he could get things done. But not here. He truly hated to be alone in here. He hated it so much that even something as seeing or talking to a nurse made him feel momentarily better.

* * *

That was why Enjolras was actually relieved to see Doctor Richieu enter his room an hour later. His doctor was nice enough; a little strict, but understanding and he clearly strived towards making his patients as comfortable as possible. Sometimes he reminded Enjolras a little bit of Combeferre.

"Good morning, Julien, how are you feeling today?", Richieu asked him while he took Enjolras' chart in hand and read the last notes one of the nurses had written in there. "You look tired."

Enjolras offered his doctor a fake smile and shrugged. "I feel quite alright, actually doctor. The pain is manageable; nearly gone. I feel better every day." He tried to bring it as convincing as possible, but the lie already sounded poor and weak to his own ears.

"Hmm", was all Richieu said as he wrote something on the chart. Then he looked up and stretched out his hand to feel Enjolras' forehead. "Definitely higher than the 37.8 in here", he mumbled to himself and he reached for the thermometer. He chuckled lightly at the dissatisfied sigh Enjolras let out when the tip of the thermometer was placed in his ear.

"Look at that, you've reached 38,9", Richieu said thoughtfully and he gave his patient a stern look. "How did you sleep last night?"

Enjolras shrugged his shoulders again and unconsciously bit the inside of his cheek. Somehow this conversation was starting to make him feel nervous.

Richieu kept looking at him; eyebrows slightly raised; patiently waiting for an answer.

"Could have been better", Enjolras muttered quietly, but he refused to meet his doctor's eyes as he said so.

"Hmm", Richieu said again with a small smile this time, "Well, judging by those dark circles under your eyes and the fact that you tend to play down everything that's related to your health, I'm going to assume you hardly slept at all. Why didn't you ask for something to help you sleep?"

Another shrug. "I didn't think it was necessary..."

Now it was Richieu's turn to sigh. Enjolras was without a doubt the most difficult patient he had ever treated. The young man was determined to go home as soon as possible but he was too stubborn to actually allow himself the time to rest and heal which caused his road to recovery to only grow longer instead of shorter. He was making things unnecessarily difficult for himself.

Richieu put the chart back and pulled up a chair next to Enjolras' bed. "I've spoken to your friend last night", he began in a serious, professional voice. "As your doctor, you must know that I am aware of your medical history..." He paused for a few seconds to give Enjolras the chance to fully realize the extent of his knowledge. "But I knew only those things that I could find in your personal files; your friend has filled in some of the blanks for me yesterday...some details on how you feel generally about hospitals."

Enjolras was staring intently to his sheets. He had no idea how to respond to this. Did Richieu expect him to say something? And why did he suddenly bring it up? Wasn't it his own business? Why had Combeferre talked to the doctor in the first place? He didn't even talk about his history to Combeferre, so why would they now expect him to speak up to this total stranger? Enjolras swallowed nervously and briefly glanced up at Richieu.

"I'd like you to tell me exactly how staying here makes you feel", Richieu continued, ignoring the panicked expression he saw flashing in Enjolras' eyes. "What it does to you..."

"Why?", Enjolras suddenly interrupted; there was no anger in his voice, but there was genuine confusion. "Didn't you just say you spoke to Combeferre? I assume he has told you exactly how I feel..."

"Maybe", Richieu nodded, "But I'd like to hear it from you personally. And I'd appreciate it if you could be completely honest with me. No downplaying."

Enjolras still looked confused. "Why?", he asked again. His doctor wasn't a psychologist or a therapist...why would he want to know about this?

"Because I'd like to know all the details before I make a decision on your stay here. And I can't do that without hearing about the personal feelings and experiences of the patient himself", Richieu explained in a calm voice.

Enjolras frowned. His heart was racing; a decision about his stay here? What does that mean? "C-can I...are you going to let me go home?", he whispered hopefully.

Richieu kept a straight face; he wasn't giving anything away. "Let's hear what you have to say first, Julien."

Enjolras swallowed again; suddenly at a loss for words. He opened his mouth a few times only to close it again. He wasn't good at this. He almost never talked about his feelings, not even to Combeferre. And now he was supposed to open up to someone he didn't even know?

Richieu stayed silent as well. He was just watching his patient with a kind and calm expression on his face; not there to push Enjolras into talking, but willing to give him all the time and space he needed.

Enjolras bit his lip and took a deep breath through his nose. "I...It's hard to explain", he muttered shakily, "I just don't feel good...I can't get any rest, b-because every time I close my eyes, I...It's like I'm thrown back in the past and no matter what I do I can't seem to put it out of my mind. I'm restless, I'm nervous...I feel s-scared and...and lonely and I know that it doesn't make any sense; b-but it's just how I feel. And I've been having nightmares and flashbacks and everything has gotten so much worse ever since my friends are restricted to visiting hours...I don't know why, but I'm constantly on edge; And I...I don't know what else you want to hear, I'm just miserable here and a complete different person than I usually am. It's like I'm back to being this confused and messed up ten year old and it's so frustrating because I really don't want to be like this; it's embarrassing, but I don't...I can't help it..."

Enjolras was babbling; he knew he was. His words came out jumbled and fast; he felt like he didn't make any sense, but as soon as he started talking, it was hard to stop. He felt humiliated, but when he looked up at Richieu he saw no judgement in his eyes. He still had the same kind and gentle expression on his face, now accompanied with an encouraging smile.

* * *

Doctor Richieu couldn't help but feel a little proud of his patient. It was obvious that Enjolras didn't do this often; didn't like to put himself out there like this and the fact that he was doing it now, to someone not much more than a stranger, showed to Richieu the honesty and the desperation behind those words. And even though he still didn't really like the idea, he had to agree with Combeferre that in this case it might be better for Enjolras to let him go home.

"Thank you", Richieu said friendly, "For telling me."

The young blond frowned again and fiddled with the hospital sheets. He still wasn't sure what was going on, all he knew was that it confused him a lot.

"I'm going to be honest with you, Julien. I'd rather keep you in here for a little longer, because your body has been through a lot and I do think it would be better for you physically if you stayed a few days more..."

Enjolras let out a defeated sigh and turned his head away from his doctor.

"But", Richieu continued, "after speaking with Combeferre last night and hearing you out just now, I'd like to make you a proposition. And I'm only making you this proposition because I know your roommate is nearly done with his medical training and therefore I know you'll be in good hands."

Enjolras looked up at that and doctor Richieu nearly laughed at the hope and anticipation he saw envisioned in his patient's eyes.

"I'm willing to release you from the hospital on the condition that you follow your friend's instructions without question. You're on complete bedrest for at least a full week, which means you either stay in bed or on a couch. You are coming back in here after one week for a check up and Combeferre will update me on your progress every other day. You'll be on different painkillers that can leave you drowsy and confused, but I am going to insist that you take them as well as your other medication," Richieu told him in a professional and serious voice. He wanted to make sure that Enjolras really knew that there was no messing around with this.

"Don't overdo it or be overconfident, because it will only get you back in here and I'm not going to allow this a second time. The only reason why I'm willing to let you go home is that I see that the mental state you're in is now starting to affect your physical state. You're not sleeping; your temperature is rising; you're in more pain. And because your friend is a very convincing speaker, I'm willing to give this a go. So please don't make me regret this."

Enjolras was struck speechless. Was he really allowed to go home? Was his doctor going to release him from the hospital? A small smile tugged at the corner of his lip. "I won't", he said quietly; his voice trembling ever so slightly.

Doctor Richieu nodded and gave him a stern look. "I'd also like to suggest for you to speak to someone about this whole thing. Someone who's specialized. I know I cannot force you to do that, but I think it could be very helpful. Your friend agrees with me there."

Enjolras furrowed his eyebrows at that. A psychologist? Really? For something that happened so long ago? That almost never bothered him except for these very specific situations? He didn't know if he wanted to do that. He wasn't a child, he should be able to handle this himself. _But you're not though,_ a little voice inside his head said.

"You don't have to decide on it right this second, Julien. Think about it; talk about it with your friends and then make a decision", Richieu stated while he pushed himself up from the chair. "I have to go make my round...I want to give you a final check up this afternoon...after that we'll sign your release papers and you can go home."

Now that the words were definitely out in the open; plain for everyone to hear, Enjolras couldn't help but grin happily. He still could hardly believe that this was really happening; that he could go home. Just knowing it already made him feel so much better.

"Thank you", he whispered shakily as he watched his doctor walk towards the door.

"Don't thank me...thank your friend's steadfastness. He and I are on the same page though, concerning your health. I'm sure he has a speech prepared for you as well", Richieu said smiling and he almost stepped outside but turned around for another second. "You're not going anywhere however before you've finished that breakfast."

And then he was gone, leaving Enjolras alone again, but this time the young blond felt significantly better. Letting out a deep sigh, but with a smile on his face, Enjolras pulled the tray with food in front of him and he slowly started to eat. Only an hour until visitation. And he couldn't wait tell his friends the good news.

TBC.

* * *

_(This was kind of a filler, hope you all don't mind so much. I promise the next chapter won't take as long and I swear the Amis will be back again. Please review and let me know what you think? Thanks!)_


	22. Chapter 22

_(Hi guys! Thank you all for your support on the last chapter :) means a lot! Here's the next one, hope you'll like it. Enjoy!)_

* * *

Enjolras felt a lot better when Combeferre and Courfeyrac walked into his hospital room an hour later. The news doctor Richieu had given him earlier had definitely lightened his mood and he was beyond excited to leave the hospital and go back home that afternoon. He was sure he was going to feel better there; heal faster. He would be in his own apartment; with his own friends; his own books and his work and he would just all in all feel far more comfortable than he had been feeling ever since he came in here. Or at least, that was what he told himself.

But if he was quite honest with himself, he started to doubt if he would, in fact, feel much better when he was at home. Of course he would be in a trusted environment and he would be able to see his friends more often than he would in here, but he was still restricted to lying in bed or on a couch and Enjolras had no doubt that Combeferre was going to make sure he didn't do anything too exciting. And that meant that he would still be alone with his thoughts most of the time. And when he was alone with his thoughts, he started to remember. And when he remembered, he would start to feel miserable again. That was how it always went. Whether it was when he was too ill to find any distraction or even when he was on his own for a few hours.

Because ever since doctor Richieu had suggested to him that it could be good for him to go talk to a therapist, Enjolras had tried to convince himself that that wasn't necessary. He functioned perfectly when he wasn't near a hospital. It hadn't bothered him in his normal life at all. Not in years. But now that he came to think of it – really think of it – he couldn't help but question if that was in fact true. Enjolras didn't like to be alone. He was almost never 'alone'. Of course, he liked to work in peace and in silence, but he always found a place to work where his friends were either present or close by. The café for example, or his own apartment. And whenever he was alone – when he came back from class for example and Combeferre wasn't there yet – he'd immediately go somewhere else where he knew his friends were hanging out. And what about his nightmares? He had them so often, that he didn't really think about what caused them anymore; he was even able to hide them from Combeferre most of the time. Maybe he wasn't dealing all that well after all? Maybe he had just been telling himself and his friends that all along? Had he been fooling himself all this time? Had he actually gotten so good at convincing others he was fine, that he had now succeeded to fool himself as well?

But he tried to swallow all those thoughts down and focus on the fact that he was allowed to go home. And it would be better at home. It would. He was almost sure of it. So when Combeferre and Courfeyrac entered his room, he put on the biggest smile and greeted them happily. Courfeyrac returned his smile enthusiastically and flopped down in the chair next to Enjolras. Combeferre was a little more reticent, but couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at his lips when he saw his friend's gleeful expression.

"Don't get too excited there, Julien", Combeferre chuckled lightly, "You may be allowed to go home, but I am going to make sure you won't be doing anything else than resting and lying flat. And if I'm not able to do so, prepare yourself for a babysitter who will be doing the exact same thing no matter how convincing your objections are."

Enjolras' smile fell a little, but he refused to have Combeferre bring down his good mood. He knew his friend was probably a bit wary about him going home, even though it had been him who had decided to suggest it to Richieu. "I've already gotten the speech, 'Ferre, and I know I'm on complete bed rest for at least a week. Don't worry…"

Combeferre hummed and sat down in the chair next to Courfeyrac; his smile grew a little wider. "Knowing is something else than actually doing, Julien, and you and I both know you're not exactly good at the 'doing' part, so forgive me for being a little skeptic here. And just because your doctor gave you his speech, doesn't mean that I'm not going to exactly tell you what I expect from you once you're back home."

"Such a surprise", Enjolras said teasingly, but his smile did not falter any further. He hadn't expected anything less from Combeferre and he secretly loved his friend for his concern and protectiveness. He always had, even if he was really good at complaining about it.

Courfeyrac watched the small banter between his two best friends with amusement, but didn't take part in it. Instead, he sat back, placed his feet on Enjolras' bed and stretched his arms out behind his head. He had missed this; missed their bickering. He had missed Enjolras' honest smile and Combeferre's exasperation at Enjolras' lack of self-care. And watching them like this, felt so blissfully familiar. He couldn't be happier. Enjolras was finally allowed to go home after spending more than a week at the hospital – and almost dying twice, a fact that everyone rather wished to forget as soon as possible – and Combeferre was slowly coming back to himself as well now that Enjolras was getting better.

"When did the doctor say you could leave, Enj?", Courfeyrac interrupted the two as soon as Combeferre mentioned the flu incident of two years ago where Enjolras had refused to stay home from school. This resulted in Combeferre getting a call from the school nurse telling him that his young friend had collapsed during gym class and was burning with fever. If the two started that discussion again, Courfeyrac was certain they would be arguing the rest of what was left of visiting hour and neither of them would come to an agreement.

Combeferre rolled his eyes as he knew exactly what Courfeyrac was doing and Enjolras smirked. "He told me that I could go home this afternoon, so…He wants to give me a final checkup first and after that I'm free to go. I have already gathered some of my stuff", he said proudly.

Combeferre frowned and Courfeyrac looked around the room in search of what exactly Enjolras had gathered until his eyes fell on a small stack of get-well-soon cards from friends and colleages; their own large one on top. He fixed Enjolras with a pointed look and grinned. "Oh yes, I can see you've gathered so much already", he teased.

"Shut up. I'm not exactly mobile here; this was all I could reach. You should be satisfied that I didn't actually try and get out of bed already", Enjolras muttered and he rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Courfeyrac's grin turned smug and he leaned closer towards Enjolras. "I bet you couldn't even if you tried to." He ruffled Enjolras' hair and ignored Combeferre's frustrated groan that escaped his throat as soon as Courfeyrac used the word 'bet'.

Enjolras grinned back at his brown haired friend just as smugly and pushed himself up a little to lean forwards as well. Their faces were now only inches away from each other. "Is that a dare?"

Courfeyrac openend his mouth to respond, but Combeferre beat him to it. "No! No one is daring you to do anything and you are staying put. I actually am quite satisfied that you listened to your body for once and did not try and get out of bed. Don't disappoint me now that you have surprised me and made me so proud." Combeferre smiled and winked playfully at his younger friend who only huffed in return and let himself flop back down on the bed.

"Fine...but now you've let him believe that he has won, 'Ferre", Enjolras mumbled in a fake hurt voice and Courfeyrac laughed out loud.

"Oh, come on Enj, I would've won anyway. I always win. I am a winner. Victory is always mine!" And he threw both his arms in the air to emphasize his point.

They kept up their little banter until it was time for Combeferre and Courfeyrac to leave. They would both be back in a few hours however to pick Enjolras up and bring him home. Until that time, Enjolras did his best not to think too much. Since he had been awake the entire night and hadn't slept all that good the previous nights either, Enjolras felt exhausted so he tried to spend these few hours left asleep. It was no use though, because as soon as he was alone again, his thoughts ran back to years ago and he cursed himself for it. _Get yourself together._

When he finally did doze off a little while later, his mind was plagued by bad dreams and he woke up again feeling just as fatigued as before he fell asleep.

* * *

"I want to have one last word with his doctor before we go, so could you help him get ready for me? Sweatpants and shirt are in the bag", Combeferre said to Courfeyrac when they walked through the hospital hallway that afternoon. "Keep him there until I come to his room too. He is not allowed to walk out of here; I'll bring a wheelchair."

Courfeyrac chuckled and was already amused just by imagining the look on Enjolras' face. "A wheelchair? He's gonna love that..."

Combeferre smiled a little as well. It was true that Enjolras was probably not at all feeling anything for being pushed around in a wheelchair, but that was just how it was going to go whether he wanted to or not. "Well, he is going to have to suck it up. It is either that or staying here."

As soon as they arrived at Enjolras' room, Combeferre handed over the bag and continued on his way. Courfeyrac quietly opened the door, just in case his blond friend was asleep, but was met with a pair of very open and sparkling blue eyes. He grinned at Enjolras and dropped the bag on his bed.

"Finally!", Enjolras sighed and he smiled up at Courfeyrac as he sat up a little straighter and tried to swing his legs to one side of the bed. "I can't wait to be out of here. Where's Combeferre? I thought he'd be here as well?"

Courfeyrac nodded while he pulled Enjolras' clothes and shoes out of the bag. "Yeah, he's here, but he wanted to speak to your doctor first. He'll be here in a few minutes and he will bring you a present. I'm sure you're going to love it."

Enjolras narrowed his eyes and watched Courfeyrac closely. Something told him he wasn't going to love said present at all and Courfeyrac's desperate attempts to hide his smile only confirmed it. He was about to respond, but then his friend reached out and tried to rid him off his hospital shirt. He twisted out of Courfeyrac's grip and batted his hands away.

"What the hell Courf?", he exclaimed indignantly, "I don't need your help undressing. I am perfectly capable of doing so myself." And he snatched the clothes Courfeyrac was holding out of his hands.

Courfeyrac crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows. "Don't be stubborn, Enj, you know you can't, now let me help you." But when Enjolras kept refusing his help, he threw his hands in the air in mock frustration and walked out of the door. "Fine, suit yourself, call me when you're done." Of course, Courfeyrac knew perfectly well it wouldn't take long for Enjolras to give up his obstinacy once he realized he could, in fact, not get this done without any help.

Enjolras watched his friend leave the room with a scowl and then set to get out of his hospital clothes. He was already exhausted after taking off his hospital gown and trying to pull on the shirt Courfeyrac had brought him proved to be much more difficult than he thought. He hadn't expected it to hurt this much, but every movement made his stitches throb and he was already sweating and panting by the time he had one arm in his sleeve. He pressed his lips together and tried to swallow the sudden knot in his throat when he realized Courfeyrac was right and he was not going to be able to do this himself. He sniffled quietly and took a deep breath. Then he closed his eyes and softly called out Courfeyracs name.

"I told you you wouln't be able to do it yourself, you big stubborn child", Courfeyrac teased laughingly as he walked back in the room. His face fell however when he saw Enjolras' defeated expression. He quickly closed the distance between them and placed a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Hey", he said in a soothing voice while he pushed Enjolras' chin up so that he could look at him directly, "there is no need to feel bad about this, mon Ami...It's perfectly normal that you're not yet able to do this yourself. You've lost a lot of your strength and there is no shame in needing our help once in a while. When will you learn that?"

Enjolras didn't say anything, but smiled a little when Courfeyrac gently helped him in his shirt. The sweatpants were a little more difficult with a casted leg, but they managed quick enough and Enjolras was dressed and ready to go by the time Combeferre walked into the room; bringing a wheelchair and a bag filled with what Enjolras could only guess were his medicines and painkillers.

The blond eyed the wheelchair with an annoyed expression and let out a deep sigh. He knew there was no debating this with Combeferre and - if he was honest with himself - he knew he needed it too, because there was no way he was going to be able to walk out of here if he couldn't even get dressed by himself.

"I guess you're not even going to listen to any objections I might have to this?", he asked tiredly as he motioned towards the chair.

Combeferre smiled and reached out his hand to help his young friend sit down. "You know me so well, Julien, and it pleases me greatly you don't even try to put up a fight. Although it surprises me too, I must say..." His smile faltered a little and he briefly glanced at Courfeyrac who discreetly nodded towards the hospital gown. Combeferre understood at once and he softly squeezed the nape of Enjolras' neck.

"How about we get you out of here, huh?" The medical student whispered softly to Enjolras while he crouched down to look at him and searched his eyes to see if he was okay. Enjolras looked back at him and nodded ever so slightly, although his eyes were a little watery. But then he smiled and blinked the tears away. "Yeah, let's go home", he whispered quietly.

And off they went.

* * *

Enjolras kept his head down during the entire walk out of the hospital and to Combeferre's car. He felt like everyone was staring at him and he couldn't help but feel embarrassed. He hated this and he couldn't wait to get out of the chair. He had been looking forward to getting out, but the actual process had proved to be a lot less exciting than he thought it would be. He was in constant pain; he still felt mortified for needing Courfeyracs help to get dressed and he was completely drained of all energy once he was finally in the backseat of the car. It didn't take long for the soft monotone humming of the car and the comfortable, warmth of the blankets to pull him under the blissful cover of sleep.

Courfeyrac grinned sheepishly when Enjolras snored quietly in his sleep. "Well, that didn't take long", he whispered softly as he looked in the rearview mirror, "He's already out...and he sounds like a purring cat, it's so cute, we should record this 'Ferre."

Combeferre turned around in his seat and smiled contently at the sight of his sleeping friend. He was pale and obviously sporting a fever, but he looked peaceful and for that, Combeferre was happy. "I'm not surprised...he was exhausted. Richieu told me he hadn't slept at all last night and I don't think he slept that much before that either. And no, we should not record him; don't be a tease, he's already feeling embarrassed."

Courfeyrac chuckled lightly and carefully made a turn; immediately checking the rearview mirror if Enjolras was still asleep and comfortable. "Alright, alright, we won't...", he said quietly and he looked at Combeferre. "Listen, I uh...I might have mentioned to the others that we were picking Enjolras up and uh...well, I think it might be very possible that they've all gone to your apartment to welcome him home...don't be mad?"

Combeferre snorted quietly and tore his eyes away from his sleeping friend. "I figured they would be waiting, Courf, you weren't exactly subtle on the phone. But it's fine if they're there...as long as they are quiet and calm; Enjolras needs his rest, you know that."

Courfeyrac nodded and smiled. "Course I know, Jehan told me he already made sure everyone was going to be silent and sweet..." He cleared his throat and was quiet for a second. Then he added: "Grantaire is going to be there as well..."

Combeferre nodded. "I figured that too..."

"You can't avoid him at your own home, 'Ferre...if everyone is there, you can't flee the room just because he is there."

Combeferre frowned. "Who says I will? And even if I wanted to then that is my decision, isn't it?"

Courfeyrac shook his head and looked at his friend apologetically. "No not any more. It's been long enough now, mon Ami. And I understand it is hard for you, I do, but it has got to stop now. The two of you need to make things right, because we brought Enjolras home for a reason; for him to heal properly and he needs his best friend for that, whether Grantaire is there or not. It's not fair to him to be in the middle of whatever this is. That's not good for him and as one of his closest friends, I urge you to make things right. And I am sorry if that makes me sound strict, but I needed to say this before we get home. It's time for a fresh start now, 'Ferre..."

Combeferre didn't say anything for a while. He stared blankly out of the window and swallowed a few times. Then he looked back at Enjolras and felt a small smile tug at his lips when the blond nuzzled further into the blankets. He tried to ignore that sudden spike of protectiveness and nodded. "You're right, Courf...", he said quietly, "It's not fair to him...I uh...I'll do my best; I'll talk to him."

Courfeyrac nodded and squeezed Combeferre's hand briefly. He knew this was hard for his friend, but it had to be done now. And Combeferre, being the reasonable and honest guy he was, knew that too. "Thank you", Courfeyrac said truthfully, "and really, I don't expect the two of you to come out of it the best of friends nor do I ask of you to forget what happened. I just want the two of you to be able to be in each other's company without any tension or fleeing the room. That's good enough for now. And Enjolras will have one less thing to worry about."

Combeferre nodded again and smiled at his younger friend; the center of their trio, but now for a moment also the guide. "I think I can do that...thank you for being honest with me..."

They spent the rest of the drive back in comfortable silence; listening to the peaceful sleeping sounds of Enjolras and, in the case of Combeferre, thinking about his inevitable conversation with Grantaire.

* * *

They both felt guilty when they had to wake Enjolras up half an hour later. The poor blond was still too much out of it to complain when they manhandled him back into the wheelchair.

When they reached the door of Enjolras' and Combeferre's apartment and Enjolras heard the voices coming from inside however, he pushed his feet against the floor to stop them from entering.

"Please, can I get out of this before we go in?", he asked quietly; keeping his eyes trained to te ground as he spoke. "Please, 'Ferre...you two can support me, but please let me walk in there instead of in this thing?"

Combeferre looked at him for a minute and sighed softly. "Alright...but you're going staight to the couch in that case. Or to bed, your choice."

As soon as they walked in they were greeted by all of their friends. And like Courfeyrac had promised, they kept calm and gentle and they helped Combeferre get Enjolras to the couch, where there was already a pillow and a blanket waiting for him. Enjolras smiled his thanks and gratefully sank down in the cushions and pulled the blanket up to his chin.

"We thought you might want to relax a little with us, Enj, before we leave you to get some rest", Jehan said happily, "we've got some Disney movies and the eighth and nineth season of Friends...whatever you want to watch, or if you don't feel like watching anything, then that's okay too."

Enjolras blinked up at Jehan sleepily and thought about what he wanted. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Grantaire hesitantly approaching Combeferre and after a last look in Enjolras' direction, Combeferre nodded and reluctantly followed Grantaire into the kitchen.

Enjolras smiled a little and let out a relieved sigh. "Friends is fine, Jehan, thanks", he mumbled quietly as he shifted a little to get more comfortable.

He was fast asleep even before the intro tune started.

TBC

* * *

_(Okay here's another chapter done. I hope you liked it :) next will have of course Grantaire and Combeferre trying to talk it over. Please review and let me know what you think? Thanks!)_


	23. Chapter 23

_(Hi lovely readers! Thank you all again so much for the feedback you've given me. It's highly appreciated! I hope this chapter was worth the wait. Enjoy!)_

* * *

The moment Combeferre, Enjolras and Courfeyrac entered the apartment, Grantaire's heart started to beat faster. Ever since Jehan and Enjolras told him he had to go and talk to Combeferre, Grantaire had tried his best to postpone and avoid it, but he decided that now was the time. Now that Enjolras was back home, they needed to make things right. Enjolras needed to recuperate in a stressfree environment and so there was no place for Combeferre and him to be at odds. Not anymore.

But he was nervous. So, so nervous. His hands were sweaty, his stomach was in knots and his fingers were shaking. It wasn't so much that Grantaire was afraid of Combeferre; he wasn't anymore now that Enjolras was on the mend. But he knew Combeferre was still angry and he knew the medical student would probably not want to speak to him at all. Maybe it was the rejection he feared...Because what if Combeferre was never going to accept him again? What if his friends were forced to choose between him and Combeferre? Who would they choose? Well, he definitely wouldn't be Enjolras' choice in that case...Grantaire felt that a lot depended on this conversation. He felt as if their relationship would either fall or grow after this little talk. All or nothing. And Grantaire was scared out of his mind.

A gentle hand gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Grantaire tore his eyes away from Combeferre, who was now hovering over Enjolras to make sure his friend was comfortable, and turned to Bahorel. The bulky man smiled at him and lay his arm over Grantaire's shoulders. He led his cynical friend away from the group surrounding Enjolras and handed him a towel.

"Wipe that sweat away and pull yourself together 'Taire," he said roughly. "You are thinking way too much my friend. I could practically hear you. Stop this worrying and allow yourself to believe that all will be fine. We've talked about this, Combeferre is a reasonable man who just needs a little pushing right now. And you are the one who needs to do it. I don't know what kind of ridiculous scenarios have already played in your head but I promise you that none of them are going to come true."

Grantaire kept his eyes firmly on the small stack of books in front of him. He wanted to believe Bahorel; he wanted to believe all of them, but he couldn't get rid of his own insecurity. Nodding, he swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and spun out of Bahorel's hold. He had to do it now, or he would never find the nerve again.

When Combeferre broke away from the group to fetch Enjolras a glass of water, Grantaire took his chance. On shaky legs, he dragged himself towards the kitchen. From the corner of his eye, he could see Enjolras follow his movement and it only made him all the more nervous. Hesitantly, he tapped Combeferre on the shoulder and he cleared his throat. The nerves in his body were on fire when Combeferre turned around and looked him directly in the eyes.

"Uh...I...uh," he stammered nervously. His tongue suddenly felt very heavy and dry. "C-Combeferre...can we speak? Please? Just...j-just for a few minutes?" His eyes briefly met Combeferre's but he couldn't quite place the emotion he found in there and so he quickly looked away again.

Combeferre knew this was going to happen. He knew he was going to have to talk to Grantaire. He had known it even before Courfeyrac brought it up earlier in the car. But did it have to happen now? He hadn't even had the chance to prepare himself for it. What was he going to say? How should he act? His eyes caught those of Enjolras for a mere second and that second proved to be enough. The hope Combeferre found in there; the relief; the near desperation...That was all the convincing the medical student needed to speak to Grantaire right here and right now. It would be best to get it over with as soon as possible.

His eyes flickered back to Grantaire and he took in the deep green orbs shining with worry, angst and anticipation. A small, weary sigh left Combeferre's lips and he nodded, though he was still a little reluctant. "Alright...let's talk. We'd best move into the kitchen; give ourselves some more privacy."

Grantaire nodded as a wave of relief washed over him. The first part was over and Combeferre had agreed to talk to him. That already was quite a big step…wasn't it? At least it meant that Combeferre was willing to listen…So maybe Bahorel was right and he was just worrying too much. Maybe Combeferre wanted to make things right just as badly as he did himself. Grantaire watched as the medical student quietly retreated into the kitchen and with a final look back to the group, he followed and he closed the door behind him.

* * *

Combeferre sat down at the kitchen table and motioned for Grantaire to do the same. He wanted them to take their time; do this once and do it right. For Enjolras, but also a little for himself. Because Combeferre had to admit that he too was tired; tired of being angry; tired of feeling guilty; tired of avoiding instead of confronting and just all in all tired of being at odds with Grantaire. They had always been good friends. Combeferre was one of those people Grantaire felt comfortable coming to when he felt down and the bespectacled man wanted to still be that person for Grantaire. He still wanted to be his friend.

Grantaire hesitated for a split second and then flopped down in the chair in front of Combeferre. He folded his hands together on top of the table and looked down at them; thinking how to start the conversation. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth and bit on it nervously; he dragged a slightly shaking hand over his face and he cleared his throat multiple times, but he could not find the words. Things had never before been so awkward between them; they used to be able to talk about anything. Combeferre was always the one to comfort Grantaire after another one of Enjolras' fits: he was always the who could convince him that Enjolras did care about him, no matter how offensive his words were.

Combeferre watched Grantaire carefully and when ne noticed how his friend was struggling, he decided to throw him a lifeline. He cleared his throat and leaned forwards in his chair. "Grantaire...before we say anything else, I first want to...to apologize for my behaviour of the past few days. Instead of dealing with it and confronting the matter at hand, I've avoided you and I shouldn't have, so for that I am sorry."

Grantaire stared blankly at his friend. If he didn't know what to say before, he certainly was at a loss for words now. Combeferre started the conversation with an apology? He opened his mouth a few times, but for some reason he still wasn't able to produce any sound.

Combeferre raised an eyebrow and looked at him expectantly. After another minute of silence, he cleared his throat again and Grantaire could've sworn he saw a flicker of annoyance in Combeferre's eyes. "I thought you wanted to speak with me, Grantaire?" Combeferre asked calmly, although it was obvious he was starting to get frustrated.

"I...I-I do," Grantaire stuttered hastily. He silently cursed himself. Why couldn't he just say something? Why did he have to get on Combeferre's nerves again? The man offered him an apology and all he could do was sit there and stare? He needed to pull himself together and just do what he had planned to do. "I...uh...thank you, I guess, for the apology, although I do understand why you've been acting the way that you did...I-I don't blame you for it..."

Combeferre just nodded thoughtfully and made a vague gesture for Grantaire to continue.

"But...I don't think that this means you're not still angry with me?" Grantaire muttered quietly and he peeked at Combeferre through the curls that had fallen in front of his eyes.

Combeferre sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Oh, how he wanted to say that it meant exactly that. He just couldn't, and it frustrated him, because he really didn't want to be upset with Grantaire anymore. But every time Enjolras winced or gasped or moaned in pain, Combeferre was reminded of the fact that it was because of Grantaire. And he knew no one else felt that way; he knew that Grantaire was remorseful; and he knew he was working himself up over something he should just be able to let go already. But he couldn't help it and he felt angry and guilty at the same time.

"I wish I wasn't, Grantaire," Combeferre said softly, "I really wish I wasn't, but-"

"But you are," Grantaire finished for him. They eyed each other for a few moments and then Combeferre swallowed and ducked his head down in silent agreement. Grantaire averted his eyes too and fumbled nervously with his fingers. He knew this already; he knew Combeferre was still upset, so why was he so disappointed?

"I am really trying to do better, 'Ferre," Grantaire said quietly, "I...I am already drinking less and...and Enjolras promised to help me cut down more once he's well enough to pick up his normal life again...the others want to help me too..." He swallowed and paused for a minute; knowing that his next words had to be spoken carefully, because he did not want to upset Combeferre any more. "And I have apologized to Enjolras, to the Amis, to you a million times already and I still mean every single one of them. I would do anything to take back what happened, but I can't and I can't keep on apologizing to you anymore because it feels like you're not even hearing me. Like you don't even want to listen. I want things to be okay between us again 'Ferre...and I'm trying really hard to make that happen, but it feels like you won't allow me to, no matter what I do...a-and I'm sorry, but I don't think you're being fair..."

There. He said it. He said what was bothering him and now he just prayed that Combeferre wouldn't explode in his face. Grantaire nervously watched how a variety of different emotions appeared on Combeferre's face. There was anger and annoyance, definitely, but also regret, shame, amusement, surprise and understanding. Now Grantaire only had to wait and see on which emotion he decided to act.

Combeferre let out a deep sigh and leaned back in his chair. He took of his glasses to rub at his tired eyes and scratched the back of his head. What was he going to say to that? Grantaire was right...he knew that, but was he ready to admit it as well?

"I know you're trying, 'Taire," Combeferre said tiredly, "I know you are and I see it too and I really appreciate it. I honestly do." He pursed his lips and stared at the table in front of him. "And I think you are right. I am not being fair to you..."

Grantaire's eyes widened. This he had definitely not expected.

"Enjolras and I have been through a lot together. I've seen him at his best and I've seen him at his worst and I'm not going to bore you with all the details, but you must know that throughout the years some things have happened that have made me very protective of him. Overprotective, one might say and I know I am that way. Enjolras reminds me of it often enough. Point is, that to me it kind of feels like it is my job to look out for him and part of the reason why I am this angry is because I feel like I failed. And the other part lies indeed with you...When someone hurts him, intentional or not, something inside me just snaps and I tend to hold this grudge against that person for a longer amount of time than I should. And I know that...I just can't help it...And I do understand how frustating that must feel or how unfair, but...but I just need time 'Taire. I need time to get over this." Combeferre looked at Grantaire. His grey-blue eyes piercing the dark green ones of the friend in front of him. "But I will get over it...R...I know I will and until that time I want you to remember that I still see you as my friend. I don't hate you..."

Grantaire blew out a shaky breath and closed his eyes for a second to let this all sink in. Basically, Combeferre was telling him that the reason he was angry didn't really lie with Grantaire, but more so with Combeferre himself, his protective nature and his difficulty of dealing with what had happened. He wondered what had occured between the two friends in the past that had made Combeferre the way that he was when it came to Enjolras.

He swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. Combeferre still cared; still saw him as a friend. And that was really more than Grantaire had hoped for. "O-okay... I...uhm thank you, that really means a lot. And thank you for telling me how you feel about this...I...it is, for lack of a better word, enlightening. I understand where you're coming from and of course I am more than willing to give you time. It's the least I can do, honestly."

Combeferre smiled a little. The relief was practically radiating off of his friend.

Then Grantaire grew serious again. "B-but how are we going to do this then 'Ferre? Because I really want to keep visiting Enjolras, but I don't want you to feel uncomfortable in your own house because of me...H-how do you see this happening?"

Combeferre was silent for another few seconds and thought about the question. There was really only one fair answer. He would do what Enjolras wanted, because in the end, that was what was most important to him. "Well, I know that Enjolras wants his friends to come and visit...And you are a friend, so that is really all there is to it. Whatever frustrations I might have...I'm going to have to deal with them in a mature way...and I really do believe this conversation was a good start."

An honest, grateful smile finally fully broke out on Grantaire's face. "I think so too," he whispered, feeling a little overwhelmed. "I am happy you wanted to hear me out."

And for a second, all anger disappeared from Combeferre's mind and he smiled back. "I'm glad you came to me. I think I needed to hear what you had to say."

They sat for another few moments, awkwardness of before almost gone completely. Then Combeferre pushed his chair away from the table and stood. "Shall we check on the others then?"

Grantaire knew that with 'others' Combeferre actually only meant one person, but he kept silent and just nodded with a knowing smile. Just before he excited the kitchen, he felt a soft hand on his back and his heart made a little happy dance. Bahorel had been right all along.

* * *

Enjolras woke up again little less than four hours later. When he opened his eyes, there was nobody with him in the living room. The TV was off, the drapes were shut and there were no friends sprawled across the floor, chairs or sofa's. It was just him, his pillow and his blanket.

Enjolras frowned. Last thing he remembered everyone was there and they were about to watch a few episodes of Friends. Had he really fallen asleep that fast? Had he missed his friends leaving? How could he have? Enjolras always slept very light and awoke at even the softest of sounds.

He carefully tried to sit up a little straighter, wincing as he did so, and he scanned the scene in front of him. There was a book, an empty mug and a pair of reading glasses on the coffee table, so Enjolras was sure that at least Combeferre had to be around somewhere. He let his eyes glide across the room until they fell on the kitchen door, which was standing ajar. From there, Enjolras could hear someone roaming around; softly humming to himself.

Enjolras smiled a little and lay back. For a second he wondered if he should get up and join his friend in the kitchen, but then he figured that Combeferre would probably not appreciate that in the slightest. And besides, he had no doubt his friend would be back in the room soon enough. Hopefully with something to eat, because Enjolras had to admit that he was a little hungry.

As if on cue, the kitchen door opened and revealed a slightly flushed Combeferre holding a tray with two bowls and two glasses of water. The medical student smiled when his eyes met those of Enjolras.

"I see you're awake, that's good. You've been asleep for almost four hours now. How are you feeling?" Combeferre asked kindly

"Four hours? I don't even remember falling asleep...What time is it then?" Enjolras asked, succesfully avoiding to answer Combeferre's question, which, of course, Combeferre noticed right away.

"You fell asleep seconds after Jehan put in the Friends dvd," he explained patiently, "It is now nearly half past seven and you did not answer my question. How are you feeling? How is the pain?"

Enjolras shrugged. "Okay, I guess...I mean, it's there, but I can handle it perfectly fine."

"You are lying to me," Combeferre sighed and he felt himself get a little frustrated. They were only four hours out of the hospital and it started already? "I know you well enough and I can see you are in pain. Why won't you just say you are?"

"Why do you ask if you're so sure you know the answer already?" Enjolras countered annoyed.

"Because I want you to be honest with me. And with yourself. That's the only way this whole thing is going to work." Combeferre said in a calm voice, although from the inside, Enjolras was already getting on his nerves.

The younger boy huffed and looked away. After half a minute or so, he gave up his act and turned back. "Fine," he mumbled, "My leg hurts like hell and these stitches won't stop itching... And I'm hungry."

Combeferre couldn't suppress a smile and he handed Enjolras a glass of water and two pills. "Look at that. You said the words and nothing bad happened. You should learn from that," he said teasingly and he ignored the glare it earned him. "I've brought you some yoghurt and fruit, which is easy to digest and shouldn't make you feel sick."

Combeferre handed Enjolras one bowl and leaned back in his chair with his own steaming one. Enjolras looked down at the yoghurt and fruit and then back to Combeferre's diner. It smelled really good. "W-what are you having?" He asked quietly, trying very hard to keep the jealousy from his voice.

Combeferre looked up and frowned at the dejected tone in Enjolras' voice. His friend never really cared about what he was eating; he didn't really care about eating at all. And yet here he was, looking longingly at Combeferre's dish. "I'm having pasta," Combeferre said matter-of-factly, "And you should be really happy that I didn't give you this, because your stomach would not have been grateful."

Enjolras only hummed in response and turned his attention back to the bowl in front of him. He took a few bites and it was actually really good. Combeferre had sweetened the yoghurt with honey and Enjolras loved honey. But despite the fact that he had been so hungry beforenand despite the fact that the food tasted good enough, Enjolras only managed a few bites. He looked up at Combeferre apologetically but his friend shook his head and told him he'd put it in the fridge for later.

* * *

"So..." Enjolras said a little while later, "I saw you and Grantaire go into the kitchen earlier...Did the two of you talk?" He really hoped they did, because the tension and awkwardness between his two friend's the past few days had been very frustrating.

Combeferre nodded as he took the last spoonful of pasta. "I did indeed," he said casually, "It was an interesting conversation and very helpful in my opinion. I am not saying that all is well, and Grantaire knows that, but he also knows that by now, the problem lies more with myself than with him. And I told him that these are my frustrations and I have to deal with them myself. And I will."

Enjolras raised his eyebrows and sank down a little further into his pillow. "Wow," he mumbled, "That's good to hear 'Ferre...It really is, but are you okay with all this? I mean, I know you want me to feel comfortable, but the same goes for you, you know..."

Combeferre smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, Julien, Grantaire and I will be fine. I honestly believe that. But I'd rather not talk about this now, because there is something else I'd like to discuss with you now that we're alone and you are awake..."

Enjolras looked away and bit his lip. He had already been wondering how long it would take for Combeferre to bring it up but he had hoped it might take a little longer, because the whole idea freaked him out to be honest, and he really didn't now what to say about it yet.

Combeferre noticed Enjolras' growing discomfort, but that did not stop him from bei g straightforward. "I believe Doctor Richieu mentioned a psychologist?"

TBC.

* * *

_(Okay, so I really struggled with this chapter. I found it hard to get out the discussion between R and 'Ferre and all the emotions there, but I hope it turned out okay. Please review? Thanks!)_


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